


Shadows of the Soul

by MarvelMatt



Series: Shadows Series [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Arrow (TV 2012), Green Arrow - All Media Types
Genre: Archery, Brainwashing, F/M, Families of Choice, Family, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Grant Ward Redemption, Hydra (Marvel), Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Male-Female Friendship, Past Relationship(s), Post-HYDRA Reveal, Redemption, SHIELD, SHIELD 616 | The Bus, Story one isn't really a crossover, Team as Family, marvel/dc crossover - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-16 21:42:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 28,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4641180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarvelMatt/pseuds/MarvelMatt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Needing the manpower, and wanting, no matter how deep down it is hidden, Coulson has Ward released from Vault D, where he finds himself working alongside his former teammates - nearly all of whom hate him, and he can't blame them. He has done horrible things, evil things.</p><p>And he doesn't completely regret them.</p><p>The Mercenary, Lance Hunter, has sided with the team, and started a sexual relationship with Agent Skye, paining both Ward, and the mercenary's ex-wife, Bobbi Morse, both of whom have found solace, and a strange kinship, in each other.</p><p>Things become even more complicated when Whitehall's plans are stepped up a gear, after he captures one of SHIELD's strongest specialists and turns him into just another weapon in HYDRA's 'Arsenal'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

 

* * *

 

 

Almost like a ghost, he sat silently with his book as he watched his former team members walk by, each one talking animatedly as they passed him on their way to a team lunch. He had been invited to join them, but as usual he politely declined when Agent Coulson - no sorry - _Director_ Coulson (he reminded himself again) had asked him to join them. He was hungry, but nowhere near starving.

He would wait.

Coulson was one of the two agents on the base that were constantly friendly towards him. Tripp and Fitz would usually say “Hi” before moving on, and on certain days Tripp would join him in the gym for a morning workout and then offer to spar with him.

Though they never did - he wouldn’t risk the ire of everyone else just because Tripp couldn’t beat him straight up - he’d be accused of cheating, or Tripp would probably end up injured – especially if he lost control again.

He would only spar with one partner now.

None of the others had even noticed when the Berserker rage returned to him, complete with that orange-ness in his veins that made him feel angrier just looking at it, and for that he was _very_ grateful.

One less problem to deal with.

Then again, none of them really cared about him enough to take notice.

Then again, that was his fault, so who could blame them.

Picking up his novel, ‘The Art of Racing in the Rain’, which had been given to him to read by Coulson, from its position on his lap, he snapped it shut and headed towards the gym.

All of the novels he was given had similar themes, his current one was about life, love, loyalty and hope. He almost scoffed at that last part. He’d read a quote once, ‘Hope is being able to see the light despite all of the darkness’.

He lived in the darkness, he had been born into it. He hadn’t seen the light until he was a man, and he’d called his light ‘Skye’.

She despised him now too.

It seemed to be a recurring theme with him.

After outing his own brother as one of the public faces of HYDRA, Coulson had decided to place him on a community service of sorts. He went on the more high-risk missions that couldn’t have an extraction plan in place, and Coulson didn’t put him back in a very tiny cell.

It was fairer than what anyone else would offer him.

He’d even stopped killing, only using ICERs or his fists.

Not that it mattered to anyone else.

He remembered later reading another quote and writing it down to remember, ‘Hope in reality is the worst of all evils because it prolongs the torments of man’.

He’d never heard truer words.

Simmons, May and Skye had all threatened to kill him several times, so much so that he’d refused to go to Simmons for medical attention. Not that he needed the help, whenever he’d been injured for or by John he’d been the one to patch himself up, not John.

 

_‘Remember kid, if you’re not good enough to avoid getting hurt then you can patch yourself up. I’m not your ‘mommy’’’_

 

It hadn’t been a problem until Coulson caught him digging a bullet out of his shoulder in his bathroom.

He’d dragged him to the med-bay and watched as he forced Simmons to patch him up, despite her grumbling protests and glares, remaining there, watching to make sure the job was done before allowing him to disappear to his room.

And by his room, he meant Vault D with some furniture added in. It had been nearly a year since his last suicide attempt, so they had decided to give him some basic amenities, and removed the security cameras. He even had his own bathroom.

He entered the gym and headed in, nodding to the room’s sole occupant. Barbara ‘Bobbi’ Morse, AKA ‘Mockingbird’ was one of S.H.I.E.L.D’s staunchest agents, and she was the fourth and last person that tolerated him on base. He’d even go as far to count her as an actual friend.

She was the only other person he was glad to see. They often sparred together, because unlike Triplett, she was able to put up a much better fight. In outright hand-to-hand, she couldn’t beat him, not many could, but like him, she also knew how to use twin batons in combat and was actually better than him, so the playing field between them was fairly level.

She was also the only reason he got angry anymore.

When he’d found out that Skye was sleeping with Hunter, it had hurt him, but he managed to maintain his cold demeanour – he’d had years of practice at not caring. It seemed the two of them wanted to get a rise out of him, because they constantly attempted to throw it in his face, only for him to remain cold on the outside, while internally screaming.

Neither of them had noticed the effect it had on Bobbi, who clearly still had some feelings for her ex-husband.

Neither of them noticed the pained look that appeared on her face when they were caught making out in the lounge, or the wistful look she had when Skye was sat on Hunter’s lap, or the time Hunter had told Skye he loved her, and she looked as though he’d punched her straight in the gut.

In fairness though, he hadn’t felt much better.

So that was how they’d found themselves taking their frustrations out on each other, they weren’t sleeping together, though there had been several close calls (he’d later seen her and May in an argument and he couldn’t help but feel it was over him), they just found themselves in the gym together on occasion, and found themselves trying to beat the crap out of each other.

It was good therapy.

Today, as usual, she sent one last strike towards the bag she was working on, before steadying it, picking up her batons and moving towards the sparring mats. They bowed and she attacked, he almost always played defence against her.

Not that she minded when she had a target that could strike back.

Swinging both of them towards his head, he brought up both arms to block them off, raising his knee when she aimed a kick towards his ribs, both of them smirking slightly.

They exchanged light jabs, testing the waters with each other before she struck out with a sweeping blow towards his stomach, causing him to jump back.

She followed up with a double spinning kick combo that he easily side-stepped, swiping her legs out from under her as she landed.

She dropped the floor, using the force to kip-up back to her feet, frustration evident on her face, as she swung with a double overhead strike.

Quickly, he side-stepped her strike and lashed out, before pulling back at the last moment and placing his palm on her stomach.

“Dead”, he said simply.

They both pointedly ignored the feel of his hand on her stomach.

Stepping back, she offered him a small smile, both ignoring the other swallowing, as she dropped her batons into her bag, before placing it over her shoulder and heading out to join the team for lunch.

He headed over to the lockers and entered his code, removing the black vest top, boots and socks he had on, he swapped out his jeans for sweat pants and taped up his wrists and ankles, before activating the LMDs that were reserved for training.

If he’d bothered to look, he would’ve seen Coulson giving him a worried glance from behind, as the Director walked into the gym, intending to attempt to persuade Ward to join the for lunch.

Instead, he watched as the man in question focused his effort into demolishing the three targets in front of him, each one decked in the standard HYDRA specialist gear, and each one armed with a different weapon.

One with a rifle, one with twin batons, and one with two swords.

Coulson just left before he could be spotted, as Ward moved onto the punch bag, finding solace in the rhythmic pounding of his fists onto the bag, and the mesmerizing way it swung back and forth.

 

* * *

 

 

It was after he’d eaten a quick dinner on his own, ignoring the scathing looks that Skye and Simmons sent at him as he fiddled with the oven, that he headed for Coulson’s office, and knocked before waiting, hands behind his back in the ‘at-ease’ position.

Once a specialist, always a specialist.

He waited for a minute maybe, trying to ignore the muffled shuffling behind the door, before the door opened, and Melinda May walked out, with her usual grace and poise as she gave him a cold look that could kill the weak-hearted.

He’d been through far too much to be frightened by a simple look.

“Enter”

He walked in to see Coulson sitting at his desk, a small smile on his face as he saw who entered, and took the offered seat.

“I take it the rest of the team doesn’t know Sir”

“Doesn’t know what Agent Ward?” His tone was accusatory, as his eyes narrowed, while Ward gestured towards his chest.

“Your shirts buttoned incorrectly Sir”

Glancing down to find that in his haste, he had in fact missed a button on his shirt, not something he would allow himself to do normally. He grimaced, almost apologetically, before correcting himself, straightening his tie and assuming his usual seated position.

“What can I help you with Agent Ward?”

“I have a request Sir”

“And what would that be?”

“The usual one for time off”

“Agent Ward?”

“Sir it’s … it’s nearly been a year since … since”, he trailed off, composing himself, and Coulson noticed the scratching he was doing to his left wrist, “it’s nearly been a year Sir, and I know there wasn’t much left, and you don’t like it, you’ve said so before, but I’d like to bury it - him. I’d like to bury him”.

Coulson watched him as he mulled over the idea. He notices the scratches he’s given himself and flinches involuntarily, before moving his sleeve to cover them up. His long sleeved t-shirt barely covering him.

Coulson noticed the movement, including the flinch, and bit the inside of his lip.

“Permission granted Agent Ward”

“Thank you Sir. Permission to leave Sir?”

He waved him off, “Dismissed Agent Ward”

 

* * *

 

 

The quinjet lowered to a near silent stop on the outskirts of a large woods in Wyoming, a familiar woods, and the rear lamp lowered itself to the ground as the engine cut off.

He stepped out into the crisp clean air, with his bag slung around his shoulders, and took a deep breath, his memory assaulted by images of a younger version of himself with Buddy, waiting patiently for the day when John Garrett would return and teach him to be a man.

He almost pitied younger him.

Shaking his head, in attempt to clear the ghosts from his head, he began to walk.

He walked, and then he walked further, and then he walked until his feet began to hurt, and then he pushed aside the feelings of pain and he just keep walking.

Looking around him he saw shadows of himself in his younger days, both in these woods and the ones abroad. Teaching himself to free-run through the trees, using them to exercise, pushing himself and honing his body, by manoeuvring around nature. Playing with Buddy, bonding with his best friend, before he was lost. Then the three years they trained abroad. John and the others teaching him how to fight. How to shoot, how to handle different weapons and how to survive.

John’s lessons were always more painful than the others, his first lesson was two months in, teaching him how to fight left him with broken ribs and a sprained wrist. His first shooting lesson a week later left him with a bullet graze on his thigh. He’d later had broken fingers and his left shoulder to add to that, not to mention the scars. That was before they left.

He followed the trees, using the same track they had driven when he was younger, before he arrived at his destination. A small clearing deep in the woods. In the distance he could see the lake as well as a few wood cabins dotted about in the distance, he wondered if the same people he’d used to pillage from still lived there.

He dropped to the floor, almost sighing in relief, sagging against the very same fallen tree that he had based his camp around almost twenty years ago. He’d could still remember it – the tent, the stove, the weapons … Buddy.

Swallowing the uncomfortable lump that had lodged itself in his throat, he pulled the bag from around his shoulders and placed it on the ground next to him, while he began speaking.

“I’ve only got two days before I have to head back, or Coulson will have my head, or my throat”, he laughed a bitter laugh, running his hand along his freshly healed larynx as he pulled a bottle of scotch from his bag, “or maybe he’ll just give me to May … I just know she’s itching for a shot at me again”, he gulped audibly, making it the only sound in the area, as he whispered guiltily, “I let her win you know. After Fitzsimmons … I just … I couldn’t do it”

He swept his hand across his brow, noticing for the first time, that he was sweating slightly.

He felt afraid.

He _never_ felt afraid.

He _couldn’t_ feel afraid.

 

_“Fear is a weakness boy … it stops you from acting, and that WILL get you killed”_

 

“I err … I never told them about you, you know, well … not all of it”, he sighed, pulling a dog’s chew bone from the bag to join the bottle, which he popped open and took a rather large swig from, enjoying the burning sensation as it went down his throat, “the scotch is your favourite by the way”, he looked at the bottle, “it tastes like piss”, he added as an afterthought, before taking another drink.

“They still think that we met at the S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy, that you converted me when I was your young impressionable rookie”, he said the last part with a mocking tone, before realising he was talking to himself.

 

_I’m definitely losing it._

 

He took another smaller swig, savouring the taste.

“I never could tell them everything … some of it”, he drank again, “some of it was just too personal John”

He put the bottle on the ground, before he began to dig a small hole, while continuing with his personal monologue.

“I _hate_ you John … not because of what you made me … made me into … made me _do_ … I might not be a genius but I’m not an idiot John … I know what you did to me … I read up on it all … Stockholm Syndrome … abuse … even cult ideas … no I can forgive all that John … I hate you because you left John. You … _fucking_ … left me”

He stopped, his breathing heavy, as he swiped at his eyes, before he reached out, beginning to dig another hole.

“I remember being that scared fifteen year old kid, sat in juvie, waiting to see if I was going to prison … I was from an asshole family, I wasn’t strong enough to help my brother and sister, and then you … you show up and tell me that if I go with you then you can get them out”, he chuckled darkly, “no one had ever done anything like that for me before … and then you … you … YOU ABANDONED ME FOR FIVE FUCKING YEARS JOHN! FIVE YEARS ALONE! WITH ONLY A DOG AS MY FRIEND BECAUSE YOU NEEDED A FUCKING WEAPON!“

He stopped again, trying to regain his composure, swiping at the hot tears that threatened to spill onto his face, attempting to calm himself down.

“And … and the worst part … the worst part was that I always knew you didn’t really care – you told me not to trust you when we met … I nearly killed FitzSimmons and May … I did kill thirteen SHIELD Agents, whose names I don’t even know … I was going to bring Skye to you … _heh_ Skye … I really loved her you know … I thought about letting you go to the Fridge for her, but, but I just couldn’t and I wanted to … I really wanted to … but I guess I’d been yours for too long”

He chuckled darkly, “I wanted to tell them. I even tried to tell them … the team I mean … but they were all so convinced that HYDRA was so incessantly evil … I couldn’t be the man they wanted and be with HYDRA … Fitz still trusted me though, and it nearly got him killed”, he chuckled again, “I guess HYDRA is completely evil after all”

He stopped again, before dropping the dog’s bone into one of the holes and then placing the gold urn into the other.

“The sad part though John … the reason why I will never find redemption or atonement … is that for Thomas and Rosie … I’d do it all again. No … I’d let you do it all again”

He said the last part as barely a whisper, his greatest secret finally laid out in the open.

Placing the dirt back over the miniature graves he’d dug, he patted them flat before he stood up, pouring the remaining scotch over John’s.

“Coulson … Coulson believes that anyone can be saved if you get to them early enough … I wish he’d gotten to me sooner … I wish he’d been the one to save me”

He straightened himself up, dusting himself off as he did so, before pulling the two rocks in his bag over the graves, and beginning the long walk back to the quinjet, only stopping to read the engravings he’d made.

 

_John Garrett_

_My friend, my mentor and my hero_

_May he finally rest in peace._

_Buddy_

_The best friend a guy could ever have asked for._

_Run Buddy Run._

“I miss you Buddy”

 

* * *

 

 

Several thousand miles away, inside the secure SHIELD Base code named ‘The Playground’, Director Phillip James Coulson and Commander Melinda Xaolin May looked up from viewing the microscopic camera they had had sewn into the former Agent Grant Ward’s jacket.

The heartbroken expression was mirrored on their own faces.

 

_What had they done?_

_What had they allowed to happen?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ward returns home.  
> Coulson comes to a realisation.  
> Hunter wants a fight.  
> May figures something out.  
> And Tripp gets a new job (sort of).

**Chapter 2**

* * *

 

He let out a breath he’d been holding.

He couldn’t trust Ward, _wouldn’t_ trust Ward.

Not yet anyway.

He’d be an idiot to trust him so easily after what had happened, but he had to admit, Ward had been going out of his way to appease the team. He avoided the three women, who didn’t want to see him. He watched over some of Fitz’s strengthening training, because he was the reason Fitz needed it. He gave Tripp training tips because his S.O. was dead. He followed every order he was given without complaint or hesitation.

 

_I’m treating him like Garrett did._

 

There was no trace of the man they had all come to know and _love_. The word left a bitter taste on his tongue. They were all like family and ‘The Bus’ was their home, and Ward had walked in with the express purpose of betraying them.

 

_He didn’t want to though._

_I ordered him to join the team – so did Hill. He told me he didn’t want to join._

_And if we were family … what was Garrett to him? A friend? Brother? Uncle?_

_No … he … he was his father._

 

He cleared his throat, and turned tis second in command, “What do we do Mel?”

She locked eyes with him. “Honestly Phil … A few days ago, I would’ve said lock him up and ‘lose’ the key. Now”, she shook her head, “I honestly have no idea anymore”

 

* * *

 

The quinjet lowered itself into the hangar, coming to a complete stop as it completely de-cloaked. The wheels touched down, and the rear ramp lowered itself.

Pulling his leather jacket on, he cut off power to the controls, before stepping out of the cockpit and making his way towards the rear of the quinjet, where he had to stop himself from recoiling in surprise, though he felt his eyes widen in surprise.

Melinda May was waiting for him.

And she wasn’t glaring at him, if anything, she seemed … _sad_.

 

_What happened to her?_

 

“Follow me”

Her usual death-look that she reserved for him was definitely gone, if he didn’t know any better, he’d say she was almost soft, and that worried him.

_The Cavalry_ didn’t do soft.

At least, not with him.

She led. He followed. They ignored the stares from everyone else on the base that they passed, they all seemed so … _worried_ … as he passed he made note of everyone staring at him, Triplett, Mack, Fitz, Simmons, Skye, Hunter, Bobbi, the only one missing was Coulson.

 

_Where is he?_

 

That question was answered when they turned onto one of the accommodation wings, and he immediately stopped.

Coulson was stood outside one of the quarters, watching as he stopped before entering the corridor, May took several more steps before turning, noticing that he wasn’t following her, she looked towards him in confusion, when Coulson spoke up from behind her.

“Agent Ward, permission granted”

Almost robotically, he continued his walk behind May, unaware of the worried look that crossed her face, until they drew level with Coulson, who turned and headed into the room, the other two following him.

The room itself was very basic, white walls, light beige carpet and basic furniture; there was a bed, a desk, some drawers, a wardrobe and a bookshelf, which was lined with some of the books Coulson had made him read. The wardrobe was open, and filled with several sets of standard SHIELD Specialist clothing, including several leather jackets, that looked a lot like his.

They _were_ his.

And so were the books.

Realization dawned on his face, as he turned towards Coulson and May, a small smile on his face while hers was carefully blank, his own face had a small sliver of surprise on it.

He gestured to the room, and then to himself, “Mine?”

“Yes Grant”, he registered Coulson’s use of his first name, “you undertake the most high-risk missions that we have to offer, without an extraction plan on most of them. In fact, on nearly all of them. You’ve come a long way towards regaining some of the trust that you lost almost a year ago, and our way of showing you that is by giving you your own room. Agent Triplett moved all of your things from Vault D into here while you were away”

He’s still speechless when they leave him in his room, and he just sits on the edge of the bed, which is much softer than the cot he was given in his cell. It almost feels too soft, but he appreciates the gesture.

People start to stop by to say ‘welcome back’ after his three day absence, and he’s happy to see them. They might not all like him, but he’s missed them anyway.

It’s Triplett that shows up first, two cold beers in hand. He’s noticed the time of the year, and figures out what it means to him. Tripp was always a smart one, that’s why Ward decided to oversee his training with Garrett – so that he wouldn’t be turned. Tripp is also probably the only other person on this base who misses him even a fraction of the amount he does. He might’ve been HYDRA, but in a way, John Garrett was responsible for Tripp’s own survival. The two of them raise a bottle to him, a silent salute to their fallen mentor, as they site there, drinking in silence, before he hands over a small package to him.

It’s a picture taken on the day that Triplett was given Garrett as his SO, which was the same day Grant became a fully qualified specialist. He remembers that day clearly. He felt so proud, knowing that Garrett was pleased with him – he’d graduated The Academy number one in his class with special accreditation, and remarks that he was the best they’d seen since The Black Widow herself. He was excited to be going solo, and pleased with the way his mentorship of Tripp had turned out. The three of them are all in their finest suits, both he and Tripp on either side of Garrett, Ward on Garrett’s right of course. The three of them are all actually smiling, not his fake one, and not Garrett’s shark-like one. He thanks Tripp who claps him on the back as he leaves, still smiling, although it’s definitely nostalgic now and not the same one he had when he appeared to greet him.

He stares at that picture until Fitz and Mack show up, so he invites them in before hanging it on one of the loose nails on the wall. Mack looks at it curiously - he recognises the two men on either side, but as far as he can tell no one’s ever shown the newer members Garrett’s picture, and specialists were only known by their work and, if they had one, their codename, so he’s not surprised they don’t recognise him. They’ve brought him a new watch, apparently designed by them for emergency cases. When activated it will let out a small EMP burst, Fitz tells him, quite proudly, that this is the first one in his new line of gadgets.

 

_His finger crashed down against the button, the sound of a discharge in the air. He scanned the area for anything but nothing had changed._

_It wasn’t a weapon._

_He watched as John collapsed, his hands flying to his side, to his Deathlok implants._

_Not a weapon._

_An EMP._

 

Neither one notices him flinch.

Simmons eventually stops by, she apparently disproves of the beer, but she’s there to call them both back into the lab, apparently they need to do ‘actual work’, but she lingers enough to shoot him a look of pure loathing over her shoulder as she leaves. Not that it bothers him anymore.

Not much did.

It’s almost the later time that he eats dinner at when Bobbi shows up, she’s beaming at him and he can’t help but smile back. She’s brought him a fern, because apparently his life ‘needs more life and less brooding’, he’s not sure what she means, but he allows her to join him on his walk to dinner. Or she decides she’s going, and he’s not going to tell her no.

The entire team’s waiting there, apparently someone (Coulson) had decided that the team needed to interact more, and had then ordered that everyone eats together daily, with someone different cooking every day.

He ignores Hunter’s comment about him poisoning them all, while some of the other’s glare, half at him and half at Hunter.

He almost laughs.

If he wanted to kill them all, they’d already be dead.

And it’d be so easy.

Coulson and May take the ends of the table, while Simmons, Fitz, Skye, and Hunter sit one side, and he, Bobbi, Triplett and Mack take the other.

If anyone notices that he sits across from Fitz and in between Coulson and Bobbi on purpose then nobody says anything about it, but Coulson shoots Simmons a warning look when she turns to glare at Ward, before she recedes it.

Dinner itself is a mile past awkward.

He smiles and laughs at a few of Coulson’s jokes. He remains polite and passes what’s asked of him, he ensures that he says ‘please’ and ‘thank you’, and then he does the dishes alone afterwards, while everyone else disperses to do whatever they do of a night.

He finishes washing the dishes, placing them into their respective storage places with the same meticulousness that he has when he folds his socks during his weekly washing.

_I really was the perfect specialist_ , he muses, and his level of training just seems to shine through everything he does, he’s always going to be the perfect weapon. Especially now that he has even less emotional attachments than he used to.

He places the last plate in the cupboard, wipes his hands and empties the sink, before hanging the dishcloth on the oven. He spots Mack and Billy (or is it Sam?) Koenig playing a shooter on the Xbox, arguing over ‘camping’, while the second brother watches on with a disapproving look on his face.

Shaking his head at their antics, but not smiling, he decides that he wants to go to his new room and continue with his reading. Coulson might keep sending him hypocritically themed books, but they were at least good reads.

He entered the corridor to see May and Bobbi making their way back towards the lounge, but it wasn’t until he stepped out from the doorway that he saw Hunter leaning against the closest wall, a small sneer mixed with a derogatory smirk on his face.

“You’re pathetic, you know that?” When he raised his eyebrow in response, Hunter pushed on, “Pining over the same woman that you tried to kill, wasn’t four bullets enough of a message for you”, he chuckled to himself, “I’d pity you if I thought you were worth it”

 

_“You’re worthless to anyone but me kid. Remember that”_

“Do you miss your precious John?”

His fist clenches, and he looks down to see the vein in his hand glowing a faint orange, he stuffs it into his jacket pocket, before anyone notices. He notices the increased pace that May and Bobbi have taken, and he tries to walk away.

“What’s worse? Knowing that John would’ve sold you out at the drop of a hat, or that because of that, _I’m_ the one that gets Skye-“

He’s cut off by a fist in his face.

It’s not Ward’s though.

It’s May’s.

Bobbi seems torn between helping her, and staying out of it altogether.

He doesn’t wait to hear a reprimand, or give any sort of statement, he just tries not to move at a sprint as he heads towards the gym.

 

_The animal needs to be unleashed._

 

He flings the door open to find Tripp and Fitz are already in there, working with some basic weights, while Simmons is watching appreciatively from the side.

“ _Get out_ ”

His voice is deep and harsh, more of a growl than actual speech, and to be quite honest, he’ll feel bad at the look of sadness on Fitz’s face later, when he’s not adding to his list of ways to rip off Hunter’s face, but right now, he’s too angry to give a damn.

He can barely register Simmons yelling at him, telling him it’s not his gym, but a glare towards Tripp had him shepherding the two young scientists out of there.

 

_Now is not a good time to piss me off._

 

He wastes no time changing his jeans for sweats. He places his headphones in, forgoes his wrappings and starts swinging at the punch bag wildly with no thought to technique or training, just the rhythmic one-two of his jab-pullback-cross combos.

That’s exactly the same position that May finds him in over an hour later, the rage still written on his face, the tension evident in every muscle. She taps him on the shoulder, and he turns, reacting instinctively, to punch her in the face.

Almost exactly like last time, she sidesteps and blocks his arm, her eyes are sharp, almost hawk-like, as she puts the pieces together in her mind.

 

_He’s closed off. Angry. Hiding his veins. Striking the bag carelessly. His hands are coated in his blood and he hasn’t stopped._

_This isn’t Ward._

_This is the Berserker Staff._

 

“How long?”

He doesn’t answer.

She narrows her eyes and grounds out, “How long?”

He growls out, “Two months”, and she fights the urge to slap him upside the head.

 

_Why wouldn’t he tell us?_

 

Then she fights the urge to slap herself upside the head.

 

_He doesn’t think anyone cares, then again … If it weren’t for that video, I still wouldn’t._

 

“With me. Now!”

She walks.

He follows.

She feels sick.

She marches him into the med-bay, Simmons looks afraid of him, he is still seething and panting, while May rummages about before returning to him with what he recognises to be a small sedative. She preps the needle, while Simmons watches on intrigued, as she injects it into his bicep, and he feels some sense of relief spread through him, and he lets out a rattled breath.

“Better?”

For the first time in well … pretty much ever, at least, when it comes to him, he hears a measure of concern in her voice.

“Yes. Thank you”

She nods, and he feels the usual post-adrenaline high fatigue beginning to set in, so he nods a farewell, his eyes blurring, and heads for his bed, before collapsing there, still fully-clothed.

May waits exactly ten minutes, to allow Ward time to pass out completely, before she calls for an immediate team meeting in the lounge.

Simmons is still looking at her curiously, but she follows May to the lounge dutifully, where the other members of the team are currently assembling themselves.

Fitz and Mack are just putting the Xbox away, while Triplett is finishing making some sort of snack in the kitchen. Bobbi and Coulson appear at the same time, followed by Skye and Hunter, the latter sporting a very nasty purple bruise under his eye and gash on the corner of his mouth.

She has to suppress a smirk at that.

They all sit on the circular couch, while May and Coulson stand. Her in front of them and him behind them. Standard briefing tactic.

“We need to talk about Ward and what happened earlier today”, she shoots a very venomous glare towards Hunter, who shrinks into his seat slightly, while everyone else looks confused, and Coulson decides to speak out.

“What happened?”

“Hunter decided to try and goad Ward in the corridor after he’d finished the dishes earlier this evening”

“Well that’s not Lance’s fau-”, Skye stopped when she saw the glare that Coulson was sending in her direction. Coulson _never_ glared at her.

“What all of us have failed to realise is that Ward is once again suffering from effects of the Berserker Staff. His anger, strength and stress levels have all skyrocketed. The only reason he’s asleep right now is that I had to sedate him, and even then, the sedative only calmed him down enough to let his energy crash”

Coulson pinched the bridge of his nose, _he needs to catch a break,_ “Okay. Simmons, how do we get him to normalize?”

“Honestly Sir … I have no idea, what do you and he use last time to calm down last time Agent May?”

“Sex. Very angry sex”, her tone just _dares_ anyone to make a comment.

“Oh, well I suppose that’s off the table then”

“It is”

“Then I honestly have no idea what to do without taking constant readings off him”

At the back Coulson sighed, now rubbing his forehead in his hands, “Well, for now, Agent Triplett, can you stay with Ward wherever he goes? I want you in the same room, on the same missions and even training at the same time. I want you to be glue”

“I can do that Sir”

“Good. Come with me. Everyone else is dismissed”

 

* * *

 

“What I am about to show you Agent Triplett is … quite frankly it’s disturbing … you are to tell no one about it. Only myself and Agent May know the contents of this video. Do you understand?”

“Yes Sir”

Coulson plays the video, stepping away from the screen allowing Triplett’s full attention to be given to the Hell that Ward had endured. Near the end, May slips into the room, as silent as ever, not moving until Ward leaves the gravesite. The specialist loses his composure when the man turns around to whisper, _“I miss you Buddy”._ May takes the seat next to him and Coulson returns to his desk before Tripp finds his voice.

“It all makes so much sense now”

They share a look, as Triplett continues to look towards his hands, pain reflected on them.

 

_Pain at what?_

 

“What makes sense Tripp?”

He clears his throat, “When I became Garrett’s rookie, he was always comparing me to Ward, and telling me how much better Ward was, and what Ward would’ve done, you know, Ward would’ve done this, Ward could’ve done that … one time, I missed a shot at my target, long range, and he escaped, Garrett slapped me around the back of the head before dragging me to the range at the Hub, he gave me a list of weapons and scores - Ward told me later that they were his - and he had me there for sixteen hours … I couldn’t even break a single record”

“Ward was that good?” May can’t keep the surprise out of her voice.

“Yeah. He’s the only person to have scored higher than Hawkeye, but he never registered his scores. I never could figure out why, I mean he could’ve jumped straight to Level Eight with those scores and I couldn’t figure out why he wouldn’t … guess we know now”, he let out a breathy chuckle, “I asked Garrett to train me the way he trained Ward once”, he shot a glance back towards the screen, “I guess I know why Kaminsky laughed at me”, he shook his head, attempting to clear the images from his head, “if that’s all Sir?”

“You’re dismissed Agent Triplett, if you would move into Ward’s room for the time being”

“Yes Sir. Can I ask, Agent May, what did Hunter say to him?”

“He threw his relationship with Skye, and the fact that Garrett’s dead in his face”

Triplett growled, “That guy really is an asshole!” Even Coulson looked murderous at that, but Tripp wasn’t finished, “he even goes around saying that he loves Skye when Grant’s in earshot, but I heard Skye saying it was just sex. It takes a special kind of ass to do that”

Still muttering under his breath, Triplett headed to his room to gather his things while Coulson turned towards May.

“Is it at all possible that Skye and Hunter are responsible for Ward’s err … ‘relapse’?”

“It’s possible”

“What are we going to do Mel?”

“I don’t know Phil. I don’t know”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and please leave some feedback below.  
> -MarvelMatt 
> 
> A Preview for Chapter Three
> 
> Coulson and May were sitting in the kitchen, having herbal tea when they first heard it. It was quiet but it was definitely a whimper. It was similar, in sound, to the whimper of a small child, which led to the problem.
> 
> It came from Ward.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ward has sleeping difficulties.  
> Hunter has a plan.  
> Ward hijacks a briefing.  
> Bobbi makes a decision.

**Chapter 3**

 

* * *

 

Awakening close to midnight, Grant reached out with his senses to notice that Triplett was asleep near him, and that he wasn’t in his cell.

He was on a soft bed, with some natural light in the room, and the air flow was different. This wasn’t Vault D, and he wasn’t currently in a hotel or on a mission.

Then it all came back to him.

The room. The bed. Even every little visit and the room warming gifts, but at the time he hadn’t noticed the obvious problem.

The bed was too soft for him.

Months of sleeping on the floor of his cell, as well as the hard cot made sleeping on the plush mattress rather uncomfortable. He felt like he was about to sink through the floor.

He knew Tripp would want to follow him, but he didn’t want to wake the sleeping man, so crossing the room silently, he took one of his pillows and left his new room and headed for his old bed in Vault D.

He walked the corridors with a practiced silence, the directions known to his body even in his groggy state. He actively avoided the corridor containing the gym, knowing that his body would force him to enter. He unknowingly passed by Skye, who followed his, a wary suspicion in her eyes.

Her suspicion increased when he stopped outside of Vault D, and entered the security code, before he slinked down into the S.H.I.E.L.D. high security vault.

She watched silently from the door as he crossed the deactivated barrier and threw his body onto the cell’s bed.

The hardened cot was almost like a dream come true, as strange as it sounds, the toughened layer comforting his tensed up muscles in a strange and unknown way, allowing him to fall asleep almost immediately, with just one pillow and no duvet.

Skye remained at the top of the stairs for several minutes, before succumbing to her own tiredness and heading for her own room.

That was exactly how Coulson and Triplett found him in the morning, with amused expressions on their faces, but a small look of knowing as they left him to get dressed. He was flat on his back, with one arm over his chest and the other behind his head. Straightening himself, he walked straight passed them, and headed for his bunk, hoping a shower would loosen him up.

It didn’t.

That then became routine or several weeks until he was able to sleep fully in his room, while Triplett seemed to have become his roommate and guardian, following and watching him, when no one else was around.

He couldn’t tell if it was to watch him, or protect everyone else.

Or was it both?

 

* * *

 

The Saturday it happened was the same as any other Saturday. The team went about their normal duties. FitzSimmons were in the lab, with Mack working on the SUVs. Triplett worked with Skye on their computer skills (Tripp mostly watched). Coulson and May worked in his office, and Hunter went with Bobbi to the shooting range.

Ward was in the gym.

Punching.

Again.

Since a physical release was seemingly off the table, he spent more and more time attacking the bag. He’d started sleeping naked just to try and release the extra heat that his body was producing, which had also prompted Tripp into moving back into his own room, which was now across the hall from Ward.

He was also receiving daily sedative injections just to keep him calm, and Coulson had taken him off of the active field roster for the time being, hoping not to set him off.

If anything, it made him feel worse.

Shrugging off his shirt, he picked up a kendo stick, activating three LMDs with the same weapon, and proceeding to swipe at them.

He never even noticed Bobbi’s appreciative look as she and Lance passed by the gym.

She never noticed Lance’s ever so slight frown.

And afterwards, when he’d notice her looking at him slightly differently, he ask her a silent _‘what?_ ’, she’d just send him a smirk in reply, but he wouldn’t figure it out.

 

* * *

 

This became a pattern over several days.

He would wake up, and then work out, stepping only for food and water. It remained that way, even when Simmons, flanked by May, marched up to him and told him that if he didn’t start finding ways to relax then his heart would eventually give out. As it was, it was only the properties of the staff that hadn’t already caused him to give in.

He’d gone to dinner in response.

 

* * *

 

Ward had fallen asleep on the couch after an extra sedative slipped to him by Skye caused him to near collapse, and while Coulson and May had reprimanded her, they were all glad when he stopped the constant growling he unaware he was doing.

Coulson and May were sitting in the kitchen, having herbal tea when they first heard it. It was quiet but it was definitely a whimper. It was similar, in sound, to the whimper of a small child, which led to the problem.

It came from Ward.

Their big, rather handsome, perfectly muscular and extremely dangerous specialist was whimpering like a baby in his sleep.

They watched, prepared to wake him, as one of his hands covered his chest, and he murmured “No John”, before May shook him awake, snapping to block the hand that shot put to her throat, she held him by his wrist as both her and Coulson, with decided concern in their eyes, asked him what was wrong.

Panting slightly, he shrugged them off as he headed for his room. The smell of strong disinfectant and the phantom feel of the guiding hand of John Garrett lingered in his mind. Sleep would not come easy to him that night.

Not that it came easy anyway.

 

* * *

 

Coulson looked up from the large screen as Ward and Triplett entered the briefing room. Triplett dropped onto the couch in between Fitz and May, the rest of the team were already seated, with the only available seat next to Skye.

Ward remained standing.

If Coulson cared, he didn’t say anything before he began the briefing,

“Now that we’re all here, I’ll start”, tapping on the holographic keyboard, he brought up an aerial picture of a large building, “we’ve recently discovered a new HYDRA Base near New Mexico, one of Hunter’s freelance contacts discovered it and passed the information over”

None of them noticed Ward stiffen slightly when the picture was brought up, all too focused on Coulson’s briefing.

“As such, Hunter has been preparing a strike plan for several days, and I’ve decided that we’re going to take that base from them. Hunter?”

He stood as Coulson asked, before bringing up the same aerial image with several numbers drawn over, as well as several lines.

“Okay guys, here’s my plan, Skye and May will take up position here, with Triplett and myself here and finally Coulson and Mack here”, he began gesturing towards different places on the map as he spoke.

“Mack?” Coulson asked, the confusion clearly written in his face, “why not Ward?”

He ignored the sets of eyes that turned to his carefully blank face. His right hand was clenched inside his jacket shaking.

“Do we really want him there?”

His hand shook harder, so he grabbed his wrist to stop it being noticeable, but Coulson noticed.

“Ward will take the place of Mack in your mission plan. Agent Mackenzie is not a black ops specialist with fifteen years’ experience and a mastery in nearly all forms of marksmanship”, he turned to the man in question and smiled, “no offence Agent Mackenzie”

“None taken Sir”

“Mack’s not good enough but the HYDRA traitor is?”

His other hand was starting to feel twitchy.

“Use his name Agent Hunter, or I’ll have you demoted back to level one”. The calm steel in his voice sent small shivers through several of the agents present, before Hunter nodded, and turned back to the briefing.

It was the closest thing to an apology that he was going to get from Hunter.

That wasn’t the only problem during the briefing between the two of them.

While Hunter was perfectly happy to take advice and questions from everyone else that was present, he ignored him and then took to speaking over him, not allowing him to make the biggest point of the briefing, so he resigned himself to waiting and trying to prevent his hands from shaking as they began to take on a slight orange glow.

Only when Hunter had finally finished talking, and Coulson resumed his position at the front of the room did Ward attempt to get his point across.

“Are there any more questions before we dissipate?”

Which he did by raising his hand like a school child, which grabbed everyone’s attention.

“Yes Ward?”

“That entire plan’s a complete waste of time, Sir”

Hunter, Skye and Simmons scoffed, each muttering ignored insults towards him under their breath, but they were silenced by a glare from May.

“Why so?”

“Because your intels off. I really hope it didn’t cost you too much – the entire plan is essentially us sneaking up on the base, which doesn’t take into account the motion detecting weaponry mounted around the base, and even if we disable that, which they’ll notice, which makes no sense when there’s an emergency escape tunnel that will be left unguarded. We should enter through there and take it from the inside Sir”

Hunter, who had sobered up under May’s glare, scoffed again, “And how do you know it’s unguarded?”

With his face as impassive as ever he replied, “Because I built it, and the only other person who knew about it was John Garrett”

 

* * *

 

With Ward’s revelation about the base’s defences and entrances, the mission briefing had changed into Ward, Tripp, May and Bobbi trading ideas in an impromptu brainstorming session until they had formed a genuine plan of attack for the mission. They’d had to completely scrap Hunter’s plan, and the British man had then spent the rest of his time pouting.

Yes _pouting._

He was apparently unhappy that Ward had hijacked his mission, and when he’d tried to take control, he’d come face to face with several angry stares from several members of the team. Bobbi seemed to have taken his slights him personally, which he found confusing, though if it was Skye against Bobbi, he supposed he’d be annoyed too.

When they’d eventually come up with a satisfactory working plan for the mission, Coulson released them for the day and Ward headed back to the gym before his hands decided to start hitting themselves.

It was close to dinner when Tripp showed up to remove him from the gym and sent him for a shower with a small sedative in hand. Not large enough to crash him, but enough to allow him to feel more relaxed than he currently was.

Dinner itself was tenser than usual, May had cooked, or rather prepared, a light salad with several different meats and cheeses present on the table. The food itself was excellent, and several of them told her as much.

The problem was that Hunter spent most of it glaring at Ward, who ignored him, while Skye observed, like it was a tennis match between the two of them.

But when the meal was over, his own tension had returned, and so he returned to the gym, whilst the younger team members decided upon having a movie night.

 

_Left jab. Right cross. Duck. Left uppercut._

What was Hunter’s problem with him?

 

_Right jab. Left cross. Duck. Right uppercut._

 

Seriously, he was the one who had Skye. The one everyone trusted. He was an actual valued member of the team. The other original five had considered him a member, but he was never valued past ‘shoot this’, but Hunter was treated like family, so _why?_ Why did he go out of his way to try and make his life hell?

 

_Left jab. Right cross. Duck. Left uppercut._

 

He even went around attempting to throw his relationship with Skye in his face. He’d learnt to live with pain a long time ago, so it didn’t bother him, but it hurt Bobbi, and that pissed him off.

He cared about Bobbi.

A lot more than he cared to admit.

 

_Right jab. Left cross. Duck. Right uppercut._

 

“What did the bag ever do to you?”

He stopped, steadying the bag as he turned to face the source of the voice, as Bobbi was crossing the room towards him.

“I’ve had an idea”

He cocked his eyebrow, the question ‘what?’ written on his face.

“You need to work off some of your excess frustration … and I want you to help me with mine”

She said that last part as she raised her t-shirt over her head and dropped it to the floor. His eyes moved straight to her breasts. Smirking she pushed them out a bit more, a faint blush betraying her show of confidence.

“The rest of the team are watching some stupid kid’s movie, we’re BOTH”, she indicated the two of them, “sort of in love with two people that seem to hate us at the minute”

She stepped forwards, helping him to remove his own shirt, before dropping it into a pile with her own.

“Look, we both know we’re attracted to each other”, she placed her hand on his chest and smiled as his eyes darkened, her breath hitched, between his sculpted body, the faint shadow on his face and _that_ look that he was now giving her, he looked like sex on legs.

“Are you sure?”

He seemed bashful, like an unsure teenager.

She found herself smiling as she brushed a faint kiss as she leant towards his ear, glad for once in her life that she was so tall, just an inch shorter than Ward himself, murmuring “Yes” in his ear.

Any further argument that may have formed disappeared when Bobbi jumped onto him, his hands automatically finding her thighs as her legs wrapped around him. Wrestling for dominance, she pushed back until hit the wall, before he flipped them around and moved his ministrations to her neck, the pleasurable nips causing her stomach to clench. They stumbled towards the mats in the corner of the gym, distracted as they fought to remove his sweats and her jeans without losing contact.

He was moving his attention to her bra when she came in.

Neither of them noticed Skye leaving the gym. An expression of hurt and betrayal on her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So ... what do you guys think so far. How do we like the idea of a Ward/Bobbi pairing? It's not one I've read before, but I liked the idea.
> 
> -MarvelMatt


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well ... there's a bad guy, some threats, torture, gunfire and an explosion or two. All in all ... it's just another day in the life that is S.H.I.E.L.D.

**Chapter 4**

 

* * *

 

 

The entrance to the HYDRA facility was hidden through some very thick terrain, mostly consisting of trees, large grass and overgrown plants. Small sword in hand, Grant Ward lead the way with six S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents following behind him.

Every one of them had noticed that Skye was the one stood directly behind him, with one hand resting on her ICER.

Sending one last swing at the overgrown plant in front of him, he returned the blade to its sheath at his belt, before raising his t-shirt to wipe the sweat from his brow, smirking as he noticed the approving glances Bobbi was sending his way, as the shirt rode up to reveal his well-toned abs.

It had taken them several ‘sessions’ over the course of several nights, but he could definitely say she had a thing for his abs and beard. Especially the way his beard ‘felt’.

She was constantly teasing him now. So sue him, he liked to cuddle.

Stepping into a small clearing, the others filed in after him, as he began to remove some of the moss that was covering the small hatch which marked their entrance, while the others moved into a standard protective semi-circle around him, facing outwards as he worked on their entryway.

It didn’t take long for most of the moss to be removed, so that he and Triplett could wrench open the small hatch. Tripp dropped in two glow sticks, which lit up the bottom of the shaft and the ladder at the side.

Ward dropped down first, followed by May as the rest of them climbed down the ladder, before they headed out down the small corridor, Ward in front and Coulson covering the rear, everyone else in single file between them, treading carefully through the narrow tunnel. Only the light from May’s torch was guiding the way.

He stopped abruptly, with May slamming to an immediate stop, but she couldn’t stop everyone else from walking straight into her, causing her to bump into him and he was pushed into the wall, his left hand shot out to protect his nose, but jarring slightly at the elbow.

Placing one hand on either side of the steel reinforced wall, he lowered his head down to the retinal scanner at the side of the door. His shoulders hunched as he met the height he’d placed the scanner – an ideal height for John Garrett, but for him, not so much.

There was a faint hiss as the steel door opened itself, before Ward stepped out of the corridor and into a small empty room. Stepping clear of the threshold, he scanned the surroundings as May entered the room, her eyes making the same sweeping movements as his own. Satisfied, she gave the order for the others to enter the room.

Triplett was the first to drop down, in a standard defensive position, followed by Hunter, Skye, and Bobbi with Coulson covering the rear. Each of them formed the same guarding semi-circle that they had for him for Coulson as he pushed the door back into its normal position, and with a small hiss it snapped shut, concealing itself against the wall.

They stacked up against the door, as May pushed it open and Triplett moved in first, all of them piling in after him, with May shutting the door behind them.

The corridor was empty.

Moving as one cohesive unit, they swept through the corridor, scanning for threats in the corners and alcoves as FitzSimmons kept a check on them through the comms, and Mack was attempting to access the base’s security cameras. Triplett pulled open the door to a secured lab and Ward burst in, ICER raised, prepared to take down anything that so much as flinched.

The lab was empty.

The rest of the team joined him, staring in wonder at the abandoned lab. Some of the equipment was still there - the medical gurneys and some surgical equipment lay about, bit it had obviously been unused in a long time, the dust told them that, but the rest of it - the medicines and drugs – the items of value were long gone.

Lastly, as Hunter entered the lab, the security door swung shut behind them, and locked with a very audible ‘click’.

 

_That’s a magnetic lock._

_That shouldn’t be there._

“Get the door!”

His order came too late and the entire team began to panic as a knockout gas began to filter through the overhead air vents, slowly filling the room.

Ward had already thrown his shoulder into the door, but it was of no use. It wouldn’t budge, and all it succeeded in doing was pushing him back into Triplett, who was moving to the door.

Together Tripp, Hunter and Ward began pulling at the security door, but not even the strength of the three of them could get it to budge. The knockout gas was quickly removing Ward’s enhanced strength and the other two were barely standing as it was.

Skye and Coulson were the first to fall, followed by May shortly after. Bobbi grabbed at the door with them, replacing the fallen Hunter. It seemed none of them could fight the effects any longer and both of them collapsed, leaving only Ward still standing, he continued to scratch and claw at the door until he couldn’t remain standing, falling to his knees before he succumbed to the effects and passed out.

 

* * *

 

 

He heard the indistinct murmurings around him as he became aware of the cold feel of metal handcuffs tied around his wrists and the dull aching in his arms told him that they were suspended above his head, and probably had been for several hours. He attempted to move, only to find his wrists mostly locked in place, he probably only had a few inches to move them horizontally, but the motion was enough for the cuffs to jangle and alert whoever else was in the room.

“Grant?!”

He opened his eyes when he identified Bobbi as the source of the shout, but she wasn’t the room’s only occupant. While he had his hands suspended from the ceiling, with his ankles free, the rest of the team had their wrists and ankles shackled together and then joined to a metal bar that ran around three of the wall in the square cell.

Skye and May were on his left, Bobbi and Hunter were on his right and he found Coulson and Triplett were behind him. Before he could begin to help them begin to form a plan, if they hadn’t already, the door burst open and a standard HYDRA agent, dressed in their usual red and black combination, walked in, followed by Alex Davidson, an old friend of Garrett’s who strolled into the room, carefree.

At six foot two inches, with his crew cut blond hair, which was now greying, and icy blue eyes, he had the perfect Hitler-youth look for HYDRA, which was part of what endeared him to them. He entered the room, sweeping his gaze across the raging faces of the captured S.H.I.E.L.D. agents with a critical look, before his eyes settled on Ward and a large smile broke across his face.

“Ah Mr Ward! It’s been far too long since I last saw you!”

He growled his response.

Davidson just chuckled, stroking his chin, and adopted a babying voice, “I see Garrett never did manage to smack enough of those manners into you”

Davidson let out a small, dark chuckle when he noticed May, Coulson and Triplett pale slightly at the implication of his joke, before he flashed them a wolfish smile.

“Enough of this catch-up. You Mr Ward, as a former HYDRA agent will give my interrogating friend here everything you know about S.H.I.E.L.D. including all current plans and known bases of operation”

“Or?”

“He’ll extract it from you. You may be able to withstand the torture, but can your friends stand hearing you scream”

“I don’t really do friends, and these lot will probably enjoy it”

Most of the team now looked outright ill at Ward’s statement, but Davidson seemed unconcerned as he motioned for the interrogator to begin. It was then he noticed the table that had been wheeled in behind them.

He felt the cold sting of ice water on his skin, jerking him back into complete awareness, as his interrogator pulled out a car battery and clips from underneath. He attempted to frighten Ward by banging the attached clips together, sparks of electricity dancing between the two.

He wasn’t impressed.

Clenching his teeth together to bite back the screams that threatened to escape from his lips, the burning sensation coursing through his nerves, setting fire through his limbs and then it was gone. His tensed up muscles relaxed and he slumped down, the metal handcuffs biting into his wrists.

The choice of not screaming wasn’t for their benefit, but it was a matter of pride. Davidson wanted to be the one who finally managed to break him.

 

_Like hell he will._

 

He felt his anger from the torture build up before it was replaced with more pain, the residual effects from the knockout gas seemingly still fighting against him, keeping his Berserker rage at bay, the pain was preventing him from focusing on it clearly. His anger was no good without him being able to focus, and he’d had a lot of fun working most of it out with Bobbi, so he was running on empty. He needed to focus and then get angry.

And fast.

The pain left him again, panting for air he struggled to use his legs to stand, trying to take the pressure of his wrists. Not noticing the worried stares of the team around him, as the strongest of them struggled just to stand.

The interrogation continued for what felt like hours, the pain lasting longer and longer each time. The ability to stand becoming harder and harder, his nerves remaining on fire, before Davidson finally called off his attack dog for the time being, leaving them alone in their cell.

 

_Mistake number one._

 

He was aware of the others gently calling his name, but he ignored them for now, his wrists were in pain from holding him up, so he grit his teeth and pushed down his pain, before bringing his knees together under him and straightening his legs. Standing up straight, ignoring the looks of incredulity on the faces of the more experienced members of the team, as he breathed a sigh of relief, revelling in the loss of the pain, before he began to pull at his restraints, attempting to pull himself free from the bar above him.

He was too tired to make any real progress, he needed to get angry and he needed to do it fast.

“I need to get angry”

The murmurings that were happening around him ceased as he locked eyes with Coulson.

“I need you to piss me off”

As if a switch had been clicked in to place, realization hit Tripp, and he began hurling verbal abuse towards him, throwing out words like ‘traitor’, ‘lapdog’ and ‘back-stabber’.

Shaking out of their reverie, the other members of the team began to yell, he heard the terms ‘monster’, ‘inhumane’ and ‘soulless’, all increasing his anger, but he’d become so used to it that it wasn’t enough. The overlapping shouts were just melding into one large noise. He needed something truly cruel for this to work.

Something must’ve shown because everyone stopped.

“Grant”

He looked up into the blank face of his boss, as Coulson looked at him without any hint of an expression on his face.

“You remember when I told you that Deathlok had killed Garrett at Cybertek after Skye had freed Ace?”

His rage still struggling to bubble up, he nodded.

 

_He couldn’t forget._

 

“I lied. He survived and made it to the Deathlok machine”

His face must’ve given something away, because Coulson smirked, showing delight in what he was saying.

“The clairvoyant survived everything we threw at him … until I hit him with the 0-8-4 from Peru, and you want to know the best part?”

He was smiling now, as he lowered his voice to a whisper.

“The Clairvoyant never even knew it was me who killed him”

Coulson had started to chuckle by now, causing the others to worry about him, until he started to really laugh. An almost manic glint in his eye.

With a roar fit for a beast, Grant Ward shattered the bonds restricting him, to the great relief of the team. Relief that was short lived, turning to dread when he crossed the room in two strides and lifted Coulson into the air, with one hand, wrapped around his throat in a vice.

He growled aloud, “I’ll break you in two”

The looks of dread became faces of fear, as Coulson’s face began to turn red and then purple. Shuffling over, his chains clanking as he moved, Tripp placed his hand on Ward’s arm, trying to placate him as Coulson was getting redder.

“Hey, come on man, you remember Buddy right? He wouldn’t want you to do this”

Staggering slightly as though he’d been pushed, he kept a grip on Coulson as he lowered him back to the floor and released him, letting him gulp in some much needed air, and the colour returned to his cheeks. He had a moment before Ward threw a punch towards him, using all the strength he had.

The metal bar they were handcuffed on bent, before a second punch snapped it completely.

Coulson was the first one to step off of the bar and towards Ward, who pulled the chain between the cuffs off, leaving only the thin metal bands on his limbs.

Triplett followed him with the same actions, before heading to the door and beginning to try and pry it loose.

Hunter was the next one off, followed by Bobbi. The British specialist headed to help out with the door, as May and Skye were the last two to slip off.

The two of them had managed to loosen the door on its hinges slightly, but it was Ward’s excess of strength that managed to remove it from its place completely.

The two guards on the outside never had a chance to react as Ward sent two sharp strikes to the side of their necks, and both of them dropped to the ground unconscious, it was almost a perfect first part of an escape plan.

Except for one thing. 

The removal of the door had set off an alarm.

Soldiers began pouring into the corridor, their own versions of ICER based weaponry at the ready, and they began firing.

 

_Mistake number two._

 

ICER equivalents didn’t seem to affect Ward in the slightest. His utter rage was fuelling him now, the more they fired, the angrier he got, and the fury and the adrenaline was too high for their weapons to be able to counteract.

Reaching the combatants first, he started dropping bodies to the floor with well-aimed strikes, throwing the weapons behind him to the specialists, and the group of agents began firing into the fray. Within moments, HYDRA’s initial force had been disabled.

Pushing on they began to head out of the base using the same method they had to get in, only pausing to takes shots at other HYDRA personnel. They headed past an engineering room and towards the tunnel.

“Wait”

At Ward’s word, they all stopped long enough for Ward to duck into the engineering room, with Tripp behind him, much to the ire of the rest of their team.

They stood there like a sitting target for several minutes until the two emerged at a jog and Tripp spoke up.

“We need to leave now Sir”

“We WERE leaving, until you two disappeared Agent Triplett”

“No Sir. We just rigged this place to blow and we have less five minutes. We need to leave NOW!”

Without waiting for a full explanation, May pushed through the last door taking out the room’s two guards immediately and opening the entrance to the tunnel. Everyone else filed through, with Ward entering last, and turning to damage the sealed door’s hinges. No-one would be following them.

Rushing through the tunnel at double-time, they reached the end and ascended the ladder into the forest.

The gunfire came from around them, ducking and returning fire as they ran, they followed the trail back to the Bus, May leading the way again, with Ward using his ICER and May’s to provide most of the covering fire.

With the clearing in sight, Coulson deactivated the cloaking mechanism, and May wasted no time heading for the cockpit, passing FitzSimmons and Mack, who were suiting up in tac gear, obviously intending to try and mount a rescue.

Taking up positions at the top of the ramp, everyone else began to return fire, they ducked behind storage crates and the SUV, leaning up and around their defences to return fire.

The hum of the engine alerted them to their imminent take-off, so the ramp began to raise. Standing to head for the nearest seats upstairs they ran. The sounds of an explosion distracting the HYDRA agents.

Ward felt a small graze of pain in his side as they ran, bit he ignored it as they all headed for the lounge, buckling into the seats as the heard bullets flying through the air. His side had moved to a dull throb as he entered a calmer state of mind.

Five minutes into the flight, May emerged from the cockpit, her hair was askew but otherwise, she was unfazed, and they all released their buckles.

“Cruising at 45,000 feet Sir. Out of weapons range. No tail. ETA to base is four hours”

Coulson nodded his thanks as they all stood up.

There was a small twinge of pain, and his fingers flee to side. He registered the dampness as he straightened up, he had a second to register the bright red liquid on his hand, which was steadily coating his shirt, before his legs buckled beneath him and he collapsed to the floor.

He thought he heard a shout of “GRANT!” before he slipped into unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we've had the first real action piece of the series. What'd do you all think?  
> -MarvelMatt 
> 
> Question: Which Arrow character and Agents of SHIELD character (good or bad, major or minor) would you like to read coming face to face in the future.  
> E.g. Ward and Diggle because etc. :...


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of re-hab, a bit of laughter, a bit of sadness.
> 
> And a departure.

**Chapter 5**

 

* * *

 

_“GRANT! WAKE UP!”_

_A gentle squeeze on his fingers._

_“I need you to wake up. Please. For me”_

 

* * *

 

" _I don’t know if I’ll every forgive you, but you got them out of there, so … thank you”_

 

* * *

 

_“You should probably wake up soon man. It’s been two days, but morale’s kinda dying … not that we’re blaming you for getting shot”, an exhale, “just wake up soon man”_

 

* * *

 

_“Just wake up already. I need my sparring partner back”, a firm squeeze on his fingers, “I miss you … so stop being lazy and get to it already”_

 

* * *

 

The first thing he noticed was the standard beeping of a heart rate monitor and the strong smell of bleach and antiseptic that accompanied Simmons’ medical lab. Awakening with his senses before his eyes, as he was trained to, he could tell that there were at least four other people in the room with him.

_“I’m not sure when he’ll awaken Sir but …”_

_“No Simmons. Nothing until he can consent to it”_

His stealth awakening was ruined by someone, or something, on his chest moving causing him to cough, and what was apparently a person to jerk away.

Blinking the grogginess out of his eyes, he looked up to the cold, white tiled ceiling of the med-lab, and pulled himself up into a sitting position, finding Simmons, Coulson, Skye, Fitz and Triplett surrounding him with varied expressions of relief and apprehension on their faces.

“Welcome back to the land of the living Mr Ward”, said Coulson, a smile to gracing his face as he spoke. The stress lines on his brow fading slightly, making him look closer to his true forty years, rather than the fifties, whose appearance he seemed to radiate lately.

 

_Land of the living? I must’ve crashed on the way back._

 

Ignoring his boss for the moment, he swung his legs around to the edge of the bed, showing that he was in a hospital gown, but his clothes were in a small pile next to his cot. Shrugging off the wires attached to the monitors he began to dress himself properly. Simmons was about to object but Coulson held a hand up, silencing her.

Pulling on his jeans, he removed the final IV drip from his arm, cutting off the small amount of morphine that was entering his system.

He placed his right foot on the floor, and felt no small amount of pain flare up in his side. A strangled gasp escaped him before he was able to clamp down on it.

 

_I’ll have to check the real damage later._

 

From what he could tell from his pain, there had been no damage to anything of importance, it was just seemed to be a flesh wound that had cost him a lot of blood.

Placing his second foot on the floor, the pain shot through his side again, as his legs took all his weight, causing him to clench his teeth to avoid shouting out in agony.

 

_Focus Ward. Feel the pain and then push it down. Let it flow straight through you like a trickle of water. Let it pool elsewhere, like a lake._

 

Breathing deeply, and with an audible exhale, he straightened up and into the ‘ready’ position.

“Thank you Sir”

The others were now staring at him in shock. This man had been shot four days ago, nearly died from blood loss, actually died on his way into surgery, and was now standing without a visible hint of the pain.

He attempted to leave the infirmary only to have Simmons get Tripp to force him back onto his cot, while Coulson proclaimed he was on bed rest and medical leave until he was given further notice.

Coulson hung around long enough for Simmons to strap him into the machines again before he disappeared, with Skye following him soon after.

Simmons made herself busy while Tripp settled into his bedside, intent on watching over him, or keeping him there, with a questioning look on his face, before he launched his mini-interrogation.

“How did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Stand up. You should be in enough pain to stop you from sitting, never mind being able to stand up and walk. How did do you do it?”

“I just don’t let myself feel the pain”

With his blank eyes and his monotonous voice, that last statement had scared him slightly, Ward looked and sounded completely emotionless.

“John used to tell me that pain was inevitable, but _suffering_ … suffering was optional”

Supressing the not-so small urge to shudder, Tripp looked towards the door where Fitz and Mack were wheeling in a spare TV with their Xbox plugged in and ready. The four white controllers sat on top of the stand. Tripp turned his chair and reached for his controller as Mack loaded Halo up. Fitz picked up two and held one out for him.

“You up for a game?”

His voice is timid, but for the first time in a long time, he feels himself smiling, a true genuine smile, and not some cover image for HYDRA or John Garrett, an ‘I’m actually glad I’m alive’ smile, as he reaches for the controller.

“Why not? Teams or singles?”

“You and Tripp against me and Mack?”

He turned his head towards his old partner, who shrugged, so he took it as a sign of acceptance.

“Bring it on”

 

* * *

 

“Hey”

Turning his head away from the book he was currently reading, a present from Bobbi had dropped into visit him, they’d spent a few hours talking before she left the book in his lap as she went to train, he looked and found Skye in the doorway, carrying a tray of food, which she raised as an offering of sorts.

“Join you?”

Almost with an apprehensive look, he nodded curtly and she sat herself in the seat and passed him the tray of pork and various steamed vegetables with the cutlery placed on the side.

“Thanks”, he muttered gruffly.

She just sits there, looking at him, her expression blank, or so she thinks, but he can see the worry behind them, she’s still an awful liar, and he wonders if it’s worry for him or about him.

He eats anyway, ignoring her stare as she swings her legs backwards and forwards underneath her chair. The pork is well cooked and the vegetables have been steamed properly. The way he prefers them for maximum effect, no added fats or nutrients lost, even if it tastes bland.

“I’m sorry!” She blurts it out as he places the tray on his bedside table.

He turns to look at her, his own expression is one of shock, he keeps his voice as neutral as he can, but he can still hear the disbelief in his voice.

“What?”

“I want to apologise”

“Why?”

That’s the question he wants the answer to. Not what for, but why? Is she only apologising because he got shot? It’s not the first time that’s happened to him since he returned to S.H.I.E.L.D.

It’s not even the fifth.

“Because … because you deserve it … you’ve been fighting to prove that you wanted to make a different decision and we- I’ve treated you like you were the devil incarnate, and I know that’s made you beyond pissed at me-“

“You’re wrong”

Her expression reminds him of a deer in those last seconds, before it gets hit by a car, and he thinks of all the expressions of hurt that he has seen on Bobbi’s face because of Skye and Hunter attempting to throw their relationship in his face.

Okay so maybe he’s not lying. He _is_ furious, just not for what she’s implying.

“I’m … wrong?”

“Yes. I expected harsh treatment when I decided to start again. I _am_ beyond pissed at you, but not because of that”

“What?” He can hear the disbelief in her own tone now, “Why then?”

“Figure it out and then apologise. Just do it to the right person next time”

Wordlessly, she stands and heads for the door, without even giving him a backwards glance, not allowing him to see the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes or the confusion written on her face.

 

_He’s not the only one that should be begging for forgiveness._

 

* * *

 

It’s three days later when Simmons finally gives him permission to leave.

He notices how both Simmons and Skye have been checking up on him more often than is necessary, and they both often found a reason to stay longer than necessary, which makes him feel better but also unnerves him slightly. He has trouble telling if they are worried about him or scared of him. The Berserker rage is still there, but for now it’s as tired as he should be, so it stays away, just bubbling below the surface. Just waiting for him to call it forth and unleash it.

Bobbi has been a godsend for him in that regard. He can admit he’s not in love with her – not yet anyway – but she always seems to show up when he feels the urge to scream and rage, and she just talks with him, until he feels calmer, and he loves what he discovers about her. She’s, like him, an extremely talented linguist, but she also shares his love for different cultures, and when they reach a lull, they start teaching each other – he’s learning Portuguese while she learns Russian. They both have a love of reading, though he prefers the grittier reality based genre, and her list shocks him.

Bobbi Morse has a thing for love stories – the sappier, the better, as far as she’s concerned.

She blushes bright red while he howls in laughter, before a tap to his ribs shuts him up.

Eventually Tripp shows up with his real clothes - a plain black t-shirt, jeans, boots and his underwear, and allows Ward to get changed out of the hospital gown they’d forced him back into.

“Where’s my jacket?”

Tripp looks up to see him pulling on his boots and beginning to lace them.

“Which one?”

“My leather one. The same one I always wear”

“Oh. It’s hung up in the lab” Tripp watches as he seems to breathe a sigh of relief, before he presses the issue, “why do you always wear the same jacket anyway?”

“It was a gift”

“From Garrett?”

His silence is answer enough.

He stands up fully dressed, not sign of an injury, which quite frankly, still disturbs him, no one should be able to recover from a bullet wound so fast, or so easily.

 

_Is it all mental? Or is there a physical aspect Garrett had him endure?_

_What did he endure?_

_What can he endure? Where’s his limit?_

_Does he even have one?_

 

Tripp motioned for him to follow, so he did, falling into step behind the other specialist as they made their way towards the sleeping quarters.

He’s surprised, and doesn’t hide it, when Tripp walks right past the quarter’s corridor and heads instead, straight for the senior briefing room and lounge area.

He’s even more surprised when they enter the briefing room to find everyone standing around the holo-table, apparently waiting for them to arrive.

No … Triplett was sent to retrieve him. They’re all waiting for _him._

If that wasn’t enough Coulson then begins to speak.

“Grant Ward. You have demonstrated the skill and dedication necessary to become an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. You have withstood interrogation under extreme circumstances without divulging S.H.I.E.L.D. Intel. You have earned the trust of the members of this organisation, does anyone here disagree?”

His eyes sweep over them. Skye and Simmons seem hesitant, while Hunter is scowling slightly. May’s expression is her standard blank while the rest are seemingly smiling at him, but his own expression mirrors May’s - standard neutral.

 

_The specialist’s speciality._

 

When no one disagrees, Coulson lets out a small smile before he continued, “Grant Ward. Do you swear to uphold the values and integrity of S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

“I swear”

“Will you do you duty to protect the innocent and help those needed?”

“I will”

“And will you protect your team, and answer the call to guard when necessary”

“I will”

“Then remember this, Grant Ward, you stand as the line in the world you are the shield, a level five black ops specialist. Welcome back”

“Thank you Sir”

He’s handed a new S.H.I.E.L.D. Badge, which is strange because he still has his old one, and then an updated identification card. He slips the card into his back pocket, but he has his old badge in his room. He goes to give it back, but Coulson motions for him to open it.

He flips the leather open to read the identification number: 5646427738

John Garrett’s identification number.

This was his badge.

He clenches his eyes shut as he flips closed the leather and presses it to his forehead, before stuffing it in his jacket’s inner pocket, so that it sits above his heart. He controls his breathing, which is noticed by everyone, and many shoot questioning looks to Coulson, but the man just smiles.

He exhales in some sort of relief, before he opens his eyes.

“Thank you Sir”

There’s a congratulations from his supervisor, before the rest of them descended upon him. The constant claps on the back and hugs were an annoyance but he was glad to be back.

Only Coulson and May noticed the minute flinching, before Bobbi slides up to him, slips her hand into his and declares, “You’ve been promoted! So drinks are on you!”

They all deserve a long break.

They get a week.

 

* * *

 

“Director Coulson”

“Yes Dire-, I mean agent, no … err … Hello Sir”

Stepping out of the shadows Nick Fury let out a low chuckle, “Just call me Fury, _Director_ ”

The darker skinned man stepped out, fully into the light of the office, his long black trench coat billowed behind him as he stepped, his eye patch gone, in its place were his sunglasses, the slight scarring visible at the edges of the left lens, and he extended his arm, shaking Coulson’s hand before sitting in the offered seat opposite his successor.

“What can I do for you Si- Fury?”

He took a heavy breath, “I’ve located several HYDRA cells in Europe, but I have no way of infiltrating them. Now I could just _assemble_ a team”, he paused as Coulson let out a breathy chuckle, “and knock their houses down, but I need the Intel and anything else of value”, he paused again as Coulson’s mind raced to catch up, “I need a man that can walk in the front door _without_ raising suspicion or getting himself shot … and I don’t have a man that can do that”

Coulson’s expression morphed from one of confusion into one of realization, as he rested his forehead in his hands, creases forming as he did so.

“But I do. You want Ward”

It was a statement, not a question.

“Yes. I do. Barton and Romanoff are willing to go in as his back-up from a distance, but he’s the only man in the world we have, who can walk right in through the front door and be welcomed. Anyone else would have to spend weeks developing a cover, and months before we could gain any real Intel”

“I … I understand Fury. I’ll bring him in”

There’s a short wait for the two of them as the intercom buzzes throughout the base with the sound of his voice and the requested agent made his way up to the meeting, walking straight into office, his eyes flicking to his former boss as he takes in his reappearance.

“Sirs”

Agent Grant Ward stepped into the Director’s office, to come face-to-face with both, the Director and the former Director.

He shook the offered hands with both men, before they sat back down, while he remained standing, stood behind Coulson.

“Agent Ward”, Fury’s eyes locked onto his, “I have a proposition for you”

His allowed his face to give away the look of intrigue, before his brain came up with a question, “What kind of proposition Sirs?”

Coulson smiled, “We may have a way to take down HYDRA permanently, or”, he conceded, “at least severely cripple their European force”

He returned the smile with one of his own, before he took the seat next to Fury, straight-backed and giving the two men his full attention.

“I’m listening”

 

* * *

 

It was two days later when the team assembled in the hangar as Ward entered with his plain black sports bag slung over one shoulder, his shock at seeing the team there to see him off was displayed clearly on his face.

He shook hands with Triplett, Mack and Hunter, the Brit wore a mask of indifference, but stood there to say goodbye anyway. Bobbi and Fitz gave him brief hugs as he passed them, having shared a private goodbye with Bobbi the night before.

He shook hands with Simmons, Skye and May, which seemed to upset Skye, though she tried not to show it.

When he got to his supervisor, they shook hands before Ward pulled out both of his badges and his new I.D. card, before handing them over to a puzzled Coulson, and explaining.

“Keep them safe, and I’ll come back for them”

Standing at the lowered ramp of the quinjet, he turned back, shaking hands with Coulson and then nodding towards his old team, before Skye surprised them all, stepping forwards and pulling him in for a hug, much to his extreme shock. Simmons shocked them all further before she joined them, a light grasp around his chest, she was followed by Bobbi, and it eventually became a team hug with Ward at the centre.

May just looked at them all, and with prompting from Coulson, rolled her eyes and joined them.

Fury coughed from behind them, slightly embarrassed, they all separated, as he motioned for Ward to follow him, shaking Coulson’s hand again as he entered the jet. Ward made to follow Fury, but stopped mid-turn and held out his fist, before dropping the tiny camera from his jacket into Coulson’s palm.

“Tripp gave it away. It took me a few days to figure out. I suppose it’s my version of confessional, but if you think Tripp should know about it, then they should probably all see it”

With that S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Grant Ward entered the quinjet, as Fury fired it up, and the pair of Black Ops Specialists left, heading towards the fight for HYDRA’s European strongholds.

“See what?”

Skye’s voice breaks the silence as Coulson turns towards them, a haunted look in his eyes, a look mirrored by Tripp and May.

“Be in the briefing room in fifteen. There’s something you all need to see”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so not a lot going on really, but it'll pick up again in the next chapter, so stay tuned.  
> But please, drop a comment and let me know what you thought.  
> -MarvelMatt
> 
> P.S. I hope everyone had a happy Batman Day! And if you'd like to read a AoS/Batman crossover, then please try my ongoing AoS: Knight Series.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So there's fighting, teasing, explosions, training and arguments. Sort of in hat order too. Enjoy!

**Chapter 6**

 

* * *

 

 **2 Hours after Departure**  
**S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters  
** **Senior Briefing Room**

 

The team was devastated.

The video they had watched had left several of them close to being, or actually in, hysterics. Only Tripp, May, Mack, Hunter and Coulson had managed to prevent tears, though not without becoming wide-eyed, despite three of them having seen it before.

They had all moved to sit around the dining table in near silence, it was too early to make dinner, but too late for lunch, so the team - now down a member - just sat there.

The only noise were the light crying of Skye and Simmons.

Skye was sat in between Coulson and May, her head on Coulson’s chest as she muttered her thoughts into his shirt. May was sat rubbing the girl’s back.

For all her training, she still wore her heart on her sleeve.

Bobbi’s eyes were mostly blank, but tinged in pain, as she leant against Mack’s shoulder - his own expression completely neutral, with his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a one-armed side hug.

Hunter and Tripp were both dealing better than the rest, but they were just sitting there, staring into space.

FitzSimmons were sat together, with Simmons lying across Fitz’s chest crying, while he had his left arm around her. He was attempting to pat her back, but his shaky hand was making it difficult for him to do so. His own eyes were teary, but he was managing to hold it back for Simmons.

“I kept telling him he should’ve run faster - into the wall”

Skye’s admission brought more tears to her face and a fresh sob, but her shoulders were shaking less.

“I took his voice away. I took away the voice of an abuse victim”

May’s usual deadpan was replaced by a tone laced by guilt, her eyes facing towards her lap, where one of her hands rested.

“I refused him medical treatment, made him patch himself up and…”

She almost broke down again, making Fitz pull him into her tighter.

“I was an ass to the man, for no reason. The man never even raised his pinky against me”

Faces around the table turned in slight shock at Hunter’s confession, just to see the man blankly staring at the wall.

“He helped bring down S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“I was a merc. Didn’t bother me luv … and I’ve probably done worse than he has … and just for money, not for loyalty … not for family”

Nobody quite knew what to say to that.

After a while they were all still sitting as Coulson placed a re-heated lasagne in front of them, encouraging them to eat something. Acknowledging their hunger, they all began to eat. It had been a long day, but Fitz decided to speak.

“I guess now we know why he didn’t like being touched”

They all lost their appetites.

 

* * *

 

 **2 Hours after Departure**  
**S.H.I.E.L.D. Secure Safehouse #E52  
** **London, England**

 

The quinjet hovered momentarily before it lowered itself into an old, seemingly abandoned factory, de-cloaking just before it hit the ground. The engines rotated about until they hit the landing position, allowing the jet to touch down. Small bleeping sounds indicated that the jet had powered down and the rear ramp had lowered.

Grant Ward walked down the ramp and into a quick hug from Natasha Romanoff A.K.A The Black Widow, S.H.I.E.L.D.’s best interrogator and deep cover specialist. Extracting himself from her, he grasped hands with the man behind her, Clint Barton A.K.A Hawkeye was S.H.I.E.L.D.’s best sharpshooter, as well as Widow’s partner.

His two oldest friends knew about parts of his extreme past, as well as his infiltration work with HYDRA in an attempt to save Garrett, both from dying and from himself. They exchanged the usual pleasantries before they began.

Barton then spent a good half an hour ranting over his short descent into crazyville and psychotown, as well as his three suicide attempts, though both of them were impressed by his management of his Berserker rage.

Which they then followed with another half hour of teasing over Bobbi.

Which he responded in mock anger – Clint and Laura hadn’t decided on a name for their third child yet – Grant was a _great_ name for a child. Natasha, or any variation thereof, was just too _Russian_.

She punched him for that one.

Then she punched him again for the ‘eye-candy’ comment.

Which they finished by both nearly killing him for not telling them Coulson was alive immediately.

 

_“I thought Fury would’ve told you”_

 

He was trying desperately not to laugh - watching Fury attempt to placate S.H.I.E.L.D.’s two best assassins brought another small smile to his face, for all his postulating, he treated them like his own children, the scene kept him in good spirits, despite knowing what was coming, at least, until his cell phone rang from a withheld number. 

Silence fell as he answered the call, placing the phone to his ear, as the other three made their way to stand next to him, listening to him.

“Hello”

“Hail HYDRA”

He fought back a smirk, _too easy_ , before he replied, “Hail HYDRA”

The three faces of his new partners snapped towards him, approving smirks adorning their faces, as they heard his reply to the caller, they watched as Nat leant in to listen to his call, before she began making quick notes on a small notepad. They locked eyes as he started gathering details, before hanging up, with a small smile on his face.

“Jo’s American Style Diner. Tomorrow. Noon and my contact will get me a meeting. I’ll be in before it’s time for dinner”

“Good work Agent Ward. Barton and Romanoff will be shadowing you from now on, the drop point for anything relevant while we’re here is Finnegan’s - an Irish bar, there’s a cupboard under the sink in the gent’s toilets. It is secure. I suggest you learn where it is”

“Understood Sir”

His good eye assessed them, before he nodded, apparently in conversation with himself, “The three of you get ready and gear up. We’re in Europe until HYDRA isn’t”

“Yes Sir!”

 

* * *

 

**3 Months Later**

 

The team was working like a well-oiled machine.

Ward would just walk in to the HYDRA bases, claiming to be a survivor from the latest S.H.I.E.L.D. attack, he would then spend several weeks scoping out the place, gather any technology and information that could be funnelled back to Fury for Coulson and his old team, which he would finish by blowing their base sky high. In little over three months, they already taken out the bases in London and Madrid and were currently in Lyon, attempting to remove HYDRA’s French stronghold.

The last of the Intel had been smuggled out the night before, and deposited into the post-box outside of a nearby bakers, which had included a small vial and a note intended to be delivered by a very familiar looking postwoman.

Wordlessly, and with a bored looking expression on his face, he finished rigging up the large explosive device he had constructed, he set the timer for five minutes before quietly slipping out of the base and into a nearby waiting black SUV. A dyed blond Natasha Romanoff was sat in the driver’s seat.

Wordlessly, she nodded in greeting, while putting the car into drive, before pulling away.

The pulled onto a motorway as there was a bright flash of orange behind them and the large office building collapsed on itself, before they finally allowed themselves to relax. He smiled slightly as she fiddled with the radio, before settling on a modern pop song that he didn’t know or like, but Romanoff liked it, and he wasn’t going to tell her what to listen to, or not to listen to.

“Instructions?”

“Fury and Barton are on their way to drop off the Intel with your old team. Barton’s gonna punch Coulson in the face, hopefully repeatedly”, she paused to flash him a grin, “and then they’re gonna meet us in Florence. Be prepared - HYDRA’s beginning to notice a pattern with the attacks, you _have_ to start making them more accidental, and show up with some real injuries. There’s still several bases left in Europe and we don’t need HYDRA killing you because you’re getting predictable”

“Understood" 

“Besides”, her smile became a sly grin, “Bobbi’d kill us if we let anything happen to that pretty face”, she watched as he cheeks burned slightly before laughing.

 

_Teasing him is just too easy._

 

* * *

 

Coulson’s team was now assembled in front of the freshly landed quinjet, expecting Fury to step off the jet with their latest Intel drop off. Several of their newest recruits, who just _happened_ to be about, were sending the team curious glances when they looked up from the work they were supposedly doing.

When the ramp lowered and Coulson stepped forwards to greet his old boss, nobody saw the right cross coming.

Quickly drawing their ICERs, only to find Coulson chuckling through a bloodied nose, as Hawkeye loomed over him.

“It’s good to see you too Clint”

Pulling him back to his feet, he followed his cross with a gut punch, before pulling straight into a hug, squeezing tightly, Barton started muttering several threats and “thank gods” into Coulson’s ear.

Across from them, Skye and Simmons were doing their best not to go ‘total fan-girl’ over the Avenger that had appeared. As though he could sense what they were thinking, he flashed them a grin, before he proceeded to hand over a small vial of an amber liquid with a flourish.

“Dr Simmons. Here you go”

Fury’s normal faint scoff and eye roll combination preceded him as he stepped out of the jet and handed over a stack of papers to May, who dutifully tucked them under her arm.

“What is it Sir?”

“A gift from Agent Ward”, at her enquiring look the Avenger continued, “according to him, it managed to get a comatose patient’s brain activity high enough to allow him to awaken. He said it was a gift for an Agent … Fist?”

“You mean Agent Fitz?”

“Yes … I think. I wasn’t actually listening, but anyway, he thinks it will return his or her normal brain functionality to him, as apparently there was some kind of _accident_ ”

The look in her eyes hardened slightly, before, without warning or waiting for any further instructions or descriptions, Simmons ran from the room dragging, what he assumed, was a slightly startled Fitz behind her, whose mouth was still agape.

“Agent Barton”, his attention snapped back to Fury, “If you’re quite finished with punching Director Coulson, we have Intel to deliver and then we have Europe to get back to”

Following Coulson, they headed for the main briefing room.

 

* * *

 

_2 Days Later_

 

“Again”

Huffing in tiredness, Ward nocked another arrow and took aim, drawing the bow until it was a tense as he could get it, before letting the arrow loose and seeing it hit the centre of the target, splitting the arrows again.

“Again”

“Seriously?”

“You asked me to teach you how _I_ shoot a bow, and I agreed that I would teach you _my_ way. So … again”

Having silently made his way up behind them, Fury cleared his throat, “Later Agent Barton. Agent Ward has to meet with his Italian contact”

He lowered the resurge bow, before passing it to Barton, who moved away to put it back with his others, “On my way now Sir”

 

* * *

 

**5 Months Later**

 

Equipped with his lightweight Titanium coated recurve bow, Grant Ward made his way towards the main power room of the last HYDRA base in Europe – the one hidden away in Switzerland. This base in Geneva was supposedly the last one, before his team was headed back to ‘The Playground’.

As much as he loved being in Europe, he couldn’t wait to be back stateside. He actually found himself missing his old team somewhat. He missed the routine he’d developed.

He missed _her_.

He reached up to tap his earpiece, “Arsenal to Hawkeye”

“Receiving”

“Bombs been planted”, he pulled a few switches on the consoles, “main power is also down. RV at Evac location. Arsenal out”

“Roger that. Over and out”

Stepping back to clean up anything that would give them away too early. He checked over his work before reaching down to set the explosives timer for twelve minutes, when his senses put him on edge.

 

_Somebody’s watching me._

 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you Mr Ward, or do you prefer Arsenal? My apologies, having several names leaves me confused”

Taking in the speaker’s appearance – tailored suit and round glasses, as well as his perfected English accent, and youthful look, he placed the clues together. He clenched his eyes.

 

_Like pieces solving a puzzle._

 

“Dr Whitehall, I am to presume”

“Indeed I am”

“Or do you prefer The Kraken? I’m sorry, having more two names tends to confuse me. I never know if I’m trying to kill one person or two”

The German man in question let out a small chuckle, “Very good work indeed Mr Ward. You will do well as one of my assets for HYDRA”

“Its’s Agent Ward if you don’t mind, and fat chance of that happening”

As he spoke, armed guards piled in to the room. Even with his new bow and his Berserker rage, if he could summon it, there was no way he could take them all and get out of there alive.

 

_Idiot! You let him distract you! They’ve probably already disarmed the bomb!_

 

“I think you’ll join us anyway. After all, compliance is rewarded _Mister_ Ward”

 

* * *

 

It was late and the team was sat around on the couches after their Friday night team dinner, arguing over what they wanted to watch. The men were all pushing of ‘Fast & Furious’, while the women (and Coulson) were arguing over ‘Downton Abbey’. Coulson was just about to abuse his status of Director to override them all when the call came through.

The single red alarm, placed in the top right hand corner of the room began blaring, which immediately put them all on edge. Coulson let out a startled gasp, as the rest of them looked towards him in concern.

Standing up and brushing off the imaginary lint off of his jacket, he hit the comms receiver button for the nearest screen, which flashed to life, bringing the blank face of Nick Fury onto the screen.

“Coulson! Good you’re there. We have a problem, and we need your help”

That confession alone was enough to get everyone’s alarm bells ringing. It was a specialist’s mentality to solve their own problems, so if Fury of all people was asking for help, it _had_ to be big.

“Of course Sir. What happened?”

“I sent Ward and Barton in to clear the last European HYDRA base”, he paused to chuckle, “Your boy managed to help us get them all in under a year. Everything went according to plan, at least … until Ward failed to reach the Evac site on time, as the bombs didn’t detonate. So I sent Barton and Romanoff back in to get him”

“So what exactly is the problem Sir?”

“They just reported back”, the older man took a calming breath, “The base was stripped bare Coulson. Ward’s missing”

 

* * *

 

“Could you pass me those files Arsenal?”

“Of course Dr Whitehall”

“Thank you Arsenal”

“No thanks necessary Sir. I’m happy to comply”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so we're hitting the home stretch now!  
> There will be 10 chapters total of this, followed by the sequel, which will be titled Shadows of Starling.
> 
> Was anyone else disappointed by AoS's S3 première? I hold higher hopes for Flash and Arrow.
> 
> Question of the chapter: Who is the better hacker - Skye (Daisy now apparently), or Felicity?


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HYDRA's game of chess reveals their star piece  
> Or...  
> A weapon is born.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> moondance - This one's for you.

**Chapter 7**

* * *

 

**6 Months Later**

 

“Status people?”

“Hawkeye ready”

“Black Widow ready”

“Mockingbird ready”

“Cavalry ready”

“Howler ready”

“Hunter ready”

“Okay. Three. Two. One. GO! GO! GO!”

 

* * *

 

Stepping in to the latest HYDRA stronghold they’d located, Senior S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Phil Coulson strode through the now cleared corridors, avoiding the clean-up personnel clearing the HYDRA Agents from the floor, and headed towards the room, where his senior agents had converged.

This was yet another failure to capture a known HYDRA base.

As seemed to be the M.O. lately, their Intel had given them the base’s location, they’d scoped it out from the outside and confirmed that it was active, and then Director Fury had given them the go ahead to breach.

Then, by the time they’d arrived, the base was then completely stripped of anything useful by the time, and by the time they’d been prepared to breach, only a skeleton crew of combatants were left behind, only this time, there was a single difference.

A lone laptop was waiting for them, sitting on a desk, inside what seemed like it had been the stronghold’s command centre.

His polished Italian leather shoe preceded his pressed and immaculate suit, as he entered the room, with FitzSimmons and Skye flanking him, to find his six of his senior field agents awaiting them. At his command, Skye dropped into the desk’s leather recliner, before she booted up the laptop and bypassed the low level encryption it held.

A series of green numbers flashed across the screen, as she typed away fanatically, before leaning back in satisfaction as the dark red logo of HYDRA emerged into view.

“So at least we know they were definitely here”

Several of them murmured their agreements to Coulson’s statement, as the logo faded to reveal the smiling faces of Daniel Whitehall and Bakshi, as well as what seemed to be a third man, stood firmly behind them, draped in shadow.

“Ah, Mr Coulson”

“Whitehall”, he spat back at the screen, the man’s seemingly perfectly mannered grace making his blood boil. The man who specialised in mind control. Whitehall made him sick.

“Yes”, he chuckled lightly, as though they were sharing a private joke, “I was hoping that it would be you that found my message. After all, what good is a note if no one reads it?”

 _Always with the attempts at mind games,_ “What do you want Whitehall?” He resisted the urge to spit the man’s name out again, “Why leave us a message?”

“Not a message per se. Let it serve as a warning to all those that would defy HYDRA”

The video feed flickered, before it was replaced by a black and white security feed, which was dated five months ago.

 

_The doors flew open and overhead lights flickered on, revealing several men decked out in standard HYDRA tactical gear, including face masks, who took up positions surrounding the man in the centre, before one stepped forwards, grabbing the man’s face and turning it forcibly towards the camera._

_With his arms suspended by chains above him, Grant Ward was looking straight at them._

Longingly, Skye’s hand reached out towards him, only for her to pull it back in embarrassment as several of her team mates raised eyebrows at her action. Their ‘story’ was well known among the top tier agents.

 

_Daniel Whitehall stepped into the cell, with Bakshi trailing dutifully behind him. The soldiers snapped into their salute, “Hail HYDRA”, and Ward looked up, before he let out a chuckle._

_And one of the guards sent his fist straight into Ward’s stomach._

_The specialist in question didn’t react, even as Bakshi stepped forwards, leaning forwards to stand eye to eye with their captive._

_“This is your last chance to save yourself Mr Ward. I strongly suggest that you take it”_

_He let out a breathy chuckle, “Go to Hell”_

_They both sighed, Whitehall’s shoulders dropped slightly as he spoke, “Very well … Soldiers, you may begin”_

The team looked on in mild horror as Ward was subjected to a seven on one beat down, unable to defend himself as the constant blows continued to rain down on him.

The video sped up as the time stamp moved up by a week, each day bringing several similar beatings. Most of them were contained to fists and boots, but some of them involved steel pipes and batons.

One particularly painful looking one involved one of the HYDRA soldiers tracing over old wounds with a knee, which required the loss of his shirt. Which exposed his tattoos.

“He used to train shirtless all the time. When did he get tattoos?”

While most of the team looked shocked, Bobbi was unconcerned, as she’d seen both of them before, and she liked stroking the one on his back, while watching him shiver. Apparently the Yakuza dragon there, served as a reminder for an old friend he’d lost, while he actually had the connections in the Brava that his chest tattoo signified. She was saved from speaking up by Clint, who was doing his best to ignore the happenings on the screen.

“He’s always had them, ever since he joined S.H.I.E.L.D.”, at their confused looks he pushed on, “they count as distinguishing features, which are _very_ bad for specialists, so he used to wear those peeling artificial skin graft things, but he stopped using them after ‘The Fall’, since he couldn’t get access to any”

Before anyone could ask any more questions, movement on the screen brought their attention back to Ward.

 

_The lights flickered back on as Bakshi entered the room flanked by three guards. Ward’s head moved up, sluggishly, allowing their eyes to clash._

_“Now Mr Ward-“_

_“Go to Hell”_

_“Ah, very well them. I’m sorry we have to resort to this, but you leave us no choice”_

_He waved the three men forwards. The man at the rear had brought a car battery with him, with jumper cables attached. They sat it down on the small table near Ward, before dramatically banging the clips together, making him watch as they sparked._

_He refused to give them a reaction._

_Bakshi, leant over, grimacing slightly, before he dialled up the amp reading to six milliamps._

“That’s not good”

Their gazes flicked from the screen to Romanoff as she’d spoken, their gazes enquiring.

“Most people pass out a six milliamps. Seven milliamps will stop your heart”

Several of them swallowed thickly.

 

_Ward’s screams echoed through the cell. His tormentors smiling in delight as he fought to control the screams before he gave in to his body’s desire._

_The screams endured, his body racking and arching in pain until he was spent and his body slumped in exhaustion._

_He was left alone for four hours until Bakshi returned and the torture was resumed._

_The beatings and the torture continued for another three days - if the time stamp was to be believed._

_Not a single meal had been brought to him the entire time he had been there, and water was placed on a sponge and brought to his lips several times a day from a pole._

They were taking his incarceration seriously.

_Eventually, he gave up screaming, his body wracking itself in silent spasms, until, during one of his constant torture sessions, and just as Natasha had predicted, his heart gave out and he slumped to the floor._

_One of the soldiers rushed forwards to check his pulse, before turning to face his leader, and speaking the unspeakable, “He’s dead Sir”_

 

Skye and Simmons let out soft whimpers, their eyes glistening with tears that threatened to fall as most of them looked sick. Only May, Barton and Romanoff looked fine. May and Barton had seen worse, and he reached forwards to place a comforting hand on his best friends shoulder.

Natasha had lived it.

 

_At Bakshi’s call, a team of medical staff rushed into the room, dropping a stretcher as they entered and rolled him onto it. The guards helped them with lifting it onto a gurney as one of the doctors straddled him and began chest compressions and recue breaths as they wheeled him from the room._

_Whitehall entered, as they left, the gurney passing him, as he turned to speak to his second in command._

_“Mr Ward?”_

_“Ready to undergo the treatment Sir, once he continues living”_

_“Excellent work as always Mr Bakshi. Bring him to me as soon as possible. I would like there to be no delays before we begin”_

_“Of course Sir. I’ll see it done”_

The video switched itself off as the faces of Daniel Whitehall and Bakshi returned to the screen, their ever present polite smiles still in place, and Coulson’s face morphed from his usual amiableness, into one of pure, unadulterated rage.

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM!?”

“My my, temper temper Mr Coulson. I only finished what John Garrett started. I’m only leading him down a path YOU and YOUR team helped push him down”

“WHERE IS HE!?”

Skye’s voice screamed out to the screen, concern and pain lacing her anger as she yelled.

“Ah, Miss Skye I believe it is … oh he’s still alive, aww, you should have seen him, so strong, so determined not to betray you all again, especially you and Ms Morse … I am so looking forward to seeing her again. The traitor and the infil-traitor. Who would’ve thought they made such a good couple? … Yes his dedication to protecting you all was admirable, he fought us for so long - you would’ve been so proud”

“How do we know he’s even alive? We already watched him die”

Coulson’s voice had returned to his neutral tone, but they could all see his rage simmering at the surface. The specks of anger flickering in his eyes.

“Oh you really do think the worst of us don’t you?” Bakshi’s tone had turned into a mocking one, “we would never waste a skillset as valuable as his, and thus, after we … ‘ _fixed’_ him, we had one final task for him to perform, a _test_ if you will”

The video faded again, taking with it their still smiling faces, as it changed to show a seemingly abandoned warehouse, containing Skye and May, though not from any mission they could recognise, and Skye hadn’t worn a red plaid short in months, her only one had caught fire in the labs by accident and she’d had to throw it away.

 

_There was a sound of string tightening, followed by a whistle, as a dark red arrow flew through the air and impaled itself._

_Straight through Fake May’s chest._

_She was dead before her body hit the floor._

_Dropping down from the rafters, Grant Ward, clad in a full set of HYDRA tactical gear, landed in the standard specialist pose, crouched with one leg extended, and a hand on their weapon – In his case a bow. Which Barton identified as a custom made compound bow, presumably with a heightened draw strength._

_“GRANT!”_

_Fake Skye sprung to her feet, apparently extremely pleased to see him._

_She’d barely taken her first step towards him when the arrow pierced her chest._

_Straight through the heart._

_She was dead before her body hit the floor._

_Stepping across the room, he checked the pulses on both women, before retrieving his bloody arrows, before wiping them clean on Fake Skye’s shirt, and reaching up to press a comms device in his ear._

_“It’s done … Yes Sir … Understood … I’m on my way”_

 

The screen faded yet again, as the two heads of HYDRA returned, and Bakshi once again took over the conversation.

“So you see … your Mr Ward is dead”

“You said he was alive!”

Whitehall let a small smile slip onto his features as he looked as his student, before giving instructions in what was a bored tone, “Mr Bakshi, please put them out of their misery”

Bakshi gestured to the man behind them, who had been draped in the shadows, and he stepped out of the darkness and into the light, and the team lost their breath.

Decked out in dark HYDRA red Kevlar, his quiver loaded with black arrows with red tips, and his reinforced red compound bow, their new enforcer dropped his hood to reveal the emotionless face of Grant Ward.

There were shouts of “Ward!” “Grant!” and assorted thanks as his face became visible.

He didn’t react.

“Mr Ward, look at me”

He didn’t react to Whitehall’s commands either.

Bakshi just smiled, “You see, it’s simple. There is no Grant Ward anymore, there’s just another weapon in HYDRA’s arsenal”

At the word “Arsenal”, his head snapped straight towards Whitehall, awaiting his instructions. His emotionless eyes awaiting confirmation.

“Arsenal, send our message. And Mr Coulson … I’d advise you to look to your left”

As Ward disappeared off the screen, they all turned to Coulson’s left to see a small jet de-cloak, before lowering the rear ramp to reveal ‘Arsenal’. Raising his bow, he knocked his arrow, before letting it fly.

Straight towards Coulson, who was tackled to the floor by May, but the damage had been done.

The window had caused the arrow to be deflected.

It flew straight into Hawkeye’s left shoulder, who screamed in pain as his upper armour began to turn red, before they saw Arsenal return inside, the ramp raise and the jet leave.

Grant Ward was once again their enemy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, how do you think I handled Bakshi and Whitehall's characterization? Just 3 more chapters 'till we reach the end people!  
> -MarvelMatt


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coulson takes a shower.  
> Someone sheds a tear.  
> SHIELD gets their ass kicked.  
> An old friend returns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> moondance - This one's for you!

**Chapter 8**

 

* * *

 

“Agent Coulson, what happened?”

The concerned voice of Commander Maria Hill reached him before he had even reached the bottom of the Bus’s ramp. Looking up, he found not only the Commander, but also the newly reinstated Director Fury awaiting them.

Fury’s single working eye seemed to be radiating anger as he watched Romanoff and Triplett carry Barton between the two of them, while only his shoulder had been injured, Simmons had insisted on minimal exertion, with the arrow piercing near a large bundle of nerves, so he found himself being carried by his partner and one of their resident specialists.

“Coulson”, Fury’s voice broke him out of his small trance of watching his agents pass him by, “gather your team in briefing room A. You have an hour”

The excess of time seemed rather long compared to what many agents were usually given, but ever since Coulson had handed over the Director position back to Fury and told him to give the Commander position to Maria instead of himself, he found that he had far more leniency afforded to him.

Not that he was complaining.

Reaching his personal quarters, which were larger than most, and next to May’s, he slipped off his tie before hanging his suit in his wardrobe and dropping his shirt in his clothes hamper, next to his shower, before stripping the rest of the way and turning on the hot water, and letting it soothe his tense muscles, as his mind wandered to the source of his discomfort.

Grant Ward.

He was starting to consider the man more trouble than he was worth.

Once again, Grant Ward had been forced into a position where he had been made to serve someone that he had been abused by, then tortured by and in this case, a new feature – murdered by.

Just what the _fuck_ did that do to a man’s psyche?

How does a man die at the hands of an abuser before having his life saved and restored, and then, because of seemingly a lifetime of abuse and indoctrination, NOT feel indebted to the man who had ‘saved’ him?

He swore if he ever met John Garrett on the other side, he would rip him a new one.

And then several more.

And then maybe leave what was left for May to play with.

So now, they had a brand new S.H.I.E.L.D. going against a very desperate HYDRA’s remnants, who now had one of the best black ops specialists that S.H.I.E.L.D. had ever seen, apparently improved his marksmanship to now include Hawkeye-level archery, armed him to the teeth, removed his conscience, or what was left of it, and then brainwashed him into becoming a mindless drone.

The perfect HYDRA soldier.

This shit was _beyond_ fucked up.

And that wasn’t taking into account the effect that this had on his team.

Skye was a mess. The whole Ward situation had put her through the emotional ringer. First she slept with Hunter, which had fractured what little relationship they had. She’d then been a complete bitch - her words, not his - towards an abuse victim, before she’d discovered his secret. By then Ward was in Europe taking out HYDRA cells, and when she was finally ready to speak with him, and he was supposed to be coming home, he’d been kidnapped by HYDRA, before becoming a merciless assassin, and had proven himself to them by killing carbon copies of Skye and May.

She was now so determined and distant, that she was starting to scare him.

Barton and Romanoff had not taken the appearance of their old friend well, especially when he’d placed an arrow in Barton’s shoulder, yet they managed to remain composed.

Morse had been quick to follow the other two, he suspected that she had something of a crush on the specialist, but she had been shaken by Ward’s - NO - Arsenal’s appearance, she was just too much of a professional to be something else.

Grant Ward was NOT Arsenal.

That was important to remember.

May, Hunter and Triplett had taken it similarly, the three being startled but prepared to do what was necessary. Hunter seemed afraid of Ward, though considering their past interactions, if Arsenal had Ward’s memories, then he would remember Hunter’s treatment of him, so the fear was not completely unfounded.

That left Fitz, Simmons and Mack.

Well, Mack didn’t really know him very well, but Fitz seemed to have taken it hard, even shouting at Simmons when she tried to get him to eat something or leave his room. She hadn’t taken it personally, but he could see that she still had difficulty understanding what Ward had done.

The younger agents just couldn’t understand how their big, strong and overprotective pseudo ‘big brother’ could have been so … weak.

Caring for John Garrett wasn’t a weakness, but that was how they saw it. None of them had ever been desperate enough to have to take such desperate measures.

The fact that Ward had, and as a CHILD. That just made him feel sick.

Turning his taps back to their ‘OFF’ positions, he grabbed a nearby towel, before drying himself and dressing himself in a fresh suit.

The shower hadn’t helped him feel any cleaner.

 

* * *

 

She sat in her room, awaiting the debrief she’d been called into, alone.

She always seemed to be alone these days, ever since he’d been captured.

Okay, well not alone. She worked in a base full of people, all of whom were constantly on the go. She saw her friends every day. She still reported to training.

Even if she trained alone now.

Striking the bag just seemed different without him there to watch her, and even give some helpful hints when he saw flaws.

She knew he was fine, wherever he was.

He _had_ to be.

 

_‘I’m a survivor’_

 

He would be fine.

THEY would be fine.

Absentmindedly, she ran her thumb across the picture she had in her hands, tracing the outline of his jaw. She’d like to do it again, just like she did that day. It was the only picture she had of the two of them.

Fine she’d admit it … she _missed_ him.

But she couldn’t say it aloud, not to the team.

They’d hate her for it.

 

_Be safe … and come home … we miss you – **I** miss you._

 

* * *

 

**3 Months Later**

 

On what would have been Grant Ward’s twenty eighth birthday, Director Fury, Commander Hill and Senior Agents Coulson, Barton and Romanoff were awaiting the return of their S.T.R.I.K.E. force, which had been dispatched to the HYDRA base near Coast City.

Pulling his sleeve back, Coulson read the time as 11:02.

“They’re late”

As if on cue, the Hub’s (formerly named ‘The Playground’) roof opened up as Mobile Air Unit 616 ‘The Bus’ lowered itself into the hangar, de-cloaking as it did so.

The engine noise died out as the rear ramp lowered, revealing Agents May and Skye. They walked off towards the senior officers as other personnel carted off their injured and deceased. Skye had remained on ‘The Bus’, whereas May had led the field team, and had her scrapes to show for it.

Taking count of the number of losses and injuries, Romanoff decided that something really bad must’ve taken place. That number of casualties was unheard of for S.H.I.E.L.D.

Especially a thirty man S.T.R.I.K.E. Team.

“How many?”

“Twelve dead. Everyone else has some sort of injury”

The Director did not seem happy with her response.

“How many men did HYDRA leave behind?”

May visibly swallowed, and Natasha frowned. _How bad could it have been? She had helped May choose the thirty people on her taskforce. They were all excellently trained._

“Nine”

The five waiting officers held looks of shock, as if they had just been told that someone had ran down their grandmother. Hill was the first to regain her composure.

“Nine HYDRA agents did this much damage to our forces?”

She took another composing breath, “No”

Sensing a story there, Coulson stepped in.

“Agent May, get your squad cleaned up, we’ll debrief with you in a half hour”

 

* * *

 

Agent May took her usual seat in the briefing room. The very large circular table with the large emblem housed many seats. Fury sat at the head of the bird, with Hill on his right and Coulson on his left. Romanoff and Barton sat next to Coulson.

There was a seat reserved for Steve Rogers next to Hill, and one for Bobbi next to his. Following on were seats for Triplett, Skye, Simmons, Hunter, Mack and Fitz. Her own chair was the next in the sequence. There was a single gap before it linked up with Romanoff.

Each chair had a name stencilled on the back, and the one next to her that read ‘G. Ward’, gave her a painful reminder of why she was there in the first place. They’d argued over giving him a chair in the first place, until Fury overrode them all and had it placed in.

She waited, as the other agents filtered in from across the base until only one seat was empty.

The only seat that had never been sat in.

Rogers was the last one to join them, lighting up Coulson’s face like a Christmas tree. Even after months of seeing him daily, he was still in awe of his childhood hero.

The idle chatter died down as he took his seat and all faces turned towards her, except for Skye’s dropping to her hands, which were folded on her lap.

She stood up and opened her file, as the others did the same in front of them, before deciding to speak.

“At 0530 hours this morning, I led a field team on a surgical strike against a known HYDRA base. The base in question was low yield, but had reported access to Kord Industries technology. Billionaire, CEO and technological genius, Ted Kord, has no known HYDRA ties. The meagre force left behind was only nine men, my force of twenty nine was able to dispatch eight of said men, sustaining only one loss”

She glanced up, to find the agents she’d spoken to look on in concern as their brows furrowed, before she pressed on.

“As we swept through the base, we managed to pick up several key pieces including what looked like several weapon prototypes, and a version of the drug that successfully restored Agent Fitz’s mental capacity. The remaining twenty eight agents, including myself, were then ambushed”

“By one man?”

She looked up, meeting Fury’s unwavering gaze with one of her own, “By Arsenal”

The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.

Since his murder, revival and ‘compliance’ with HYDRA, Ward’s name had become a taboo amongst them, and thereby every agent on the base. Only Rogers, Hill and Fury hadn’t adopted looks that bordered on depressed.

May let them have a minute to digest that information, and having remained careful enough to avoid mentioning Ward by his actual name, before she continued with her briefing.

“Arsenal attacked from the rafters first, picking us off in our initial confusion. He started by taking out our ICERs before he descended any lower and began taking kill shots. The arrows were lodged through the side of the barrels, so we had to mostly rely on hand to hand when he hit the floor and started killing. We couldn’t take him in hand to hand before, and the bow just makes him even deadlier, He’s more efficient now, he never missed a shot before except now, he has no mercy for anyone”

“Anyone?”

“Skye entered the fray, from having been left at ‘The Bus’ to run comms. We all know Ward always had something of a soft spot for her, which we have exploited before”, Coulson and Skye looked down in shame, as The Avengers frowned, “but if Agent Hardy hadn’t stepped in front of her, she would most certainly be dead by now”

If possible, the atmosphere in the room dropped lower at her final statement. Ward had always been easy on Skye, but if he shot to kill _her_ then nothing was going to stop him from harming _anyone_ else.

“Agent May, was there any good news?”

“We managed to overload a high energy particle device that they had stored there. I’m told that it released high levels of certain types of particles into the air, but I’m told that there’s no danger to the surrounding populace”

She looked towards FitzSimmons, who confirmed by nodding their heads.

“What about-“

Rogers’ question was cut off when an alarm began to blare, silencing everything. Not wasting a second, Fury span in his chair as the wall behind him started showing security footage.

The main hangar had had a hole blown in its wall and people were pouring through it. The distinctive black Kevlar and red logo gave them away as HYDRA. Behind him, Daniel Whitehall and Bakshi entered, _expecting us to abandon most likely,_ the camera picked up two more men behind them, but they were unable to be seen.

A single S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent slipped past the defence line, intending to take down the two leaders, only to find a red arrow sticking out his chest. It seemed as though ‘Arsenal’ had arrived with them, though the mystery man still lurked alongside him.

Bakshi turned to mutter some orders that the camera didn’t pick up, before the two sprinted off, pausing to allow Whitehall and Bakshi to pass in front of them, before an arrow took out the security camera, cutting off their feed.

Fury turned back around, seeing his agents pull out their weaponry, apart from the scientists and Coulson, everyone was dressed in their tactical gear. He gave a curt nod, and they all swept out of the briefing room as a group, only Rogers separated, going to retrieve his trademark shield.

The all tensed as they entered a large commons area to see Agent Collins enter from the other side, he seemed relieved to see them, until the red arrow pierced him from behind, and he fell lifelessly to the floor.

Several of them swallowed as, bow first, Arsenal came into view.

 

* * *

 

Typing in his security code, he pulled his shield out from its storage and display box. And Agent Rogers became Captain America.

Heading in the direction of the most gunfire, he began knocking heads together, until he came into an unused and empty room, where several S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents had fallen, as he saw someone snapping the neck of another.

Without hesitation, he flung the shield towards his new opponent, only for it to be caught by a silver hand. He felt his knees weaken slightly.

 

_They captured him again._

 

“Bucky?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, we're really near the end now.  
> Just an FYI - while the next two updates wont be far off (they're already written), the sequel's chapters will not only be twice as long, they will take longer to appear.  
> -MarvelMatt 
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are greatly appreciated!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's fist fighting,  
> And batons,  
> And bows,  
> And ICERs,  
> And well ... you get the idea

**Chapter 9**

 

* * *

 

**_Previously in ‘The Shadows Series’_ **

 

* * *

 

_He lived in the darkness, he had been born into it. He hadn’t seen the light until he was a man, and he’d called his light ‘Skye’._

_She despised him now too._

_It seemed to be a recurring theme with him._

* * *

 

_He’d remembered later reading another quote and writting it down to remember, ‘Hope in reality is the worst of all evils because it prolongs the torments of man’. He’d never heard truer words._

* * *

 

_Looking around him he saw shadows of himself in his younger days, both in these woods and the ones abroad. Teaching himself to free-run through the trees, using them to exercise, pushing himself and honing his body, by manoeuvring around nature. Playing with Buddy, bonding with his best friend, before he was lost. Then the three years they trained abroad. John and the others teaching him how to fight. How to shoot, how to handle different weapons and how to survive._

_John’s lessons were always more painful than the others, his first lesson was two months in, teaching him how to fight left him with broken ribs and a sprained wrist. His first shooting lesson a week later left him with a bullet graze on his thigh. He’d later had broken fingers and his left shoulder to add to that, not to mention the scars. That was before they left._

* * *

 

_“Enough of this catch-up. You Mr Ward, as a former HYDRA agent will give my interrogating friend here everything you know about S.H.I.E.L.D. including all current plans and known bases of operation”_

_“Or?”_

_“He’ll extract it from you. You may be able to withstand the torture, but can your friends stand hearing you scream”_

_“I don’t really do friends, and these lot will probably enjoy it”_

 

* * *

 

_“How did you do that?”_

_“Do what?”_

_“Stand up. You should be in enough pain to stop you from sitting, never mind being able to stand up and walk. How did do you do it?”_

_“I just don’t let myself feel the pain”_

_With his blank eyes and his monotonous voice, that last statement had scared him slightly, Ward looked and sounded completely emotionless._

_“John used to tell me that pain was inevitable, but_ suffering _… suffering was optional”_

* * *

 

_“Where’s my jacket?”_

_Tripp looks up to see him pulling on his boots and beginning to lace them._

_“Which one?”_

_“My leather one. The same one I always wear”_

_“Oh. It’s hung up in the lab” Tripp watches as he seems to breathe a sigh of relief, before he presses the issue, “why do you always wear the same jacket anyway?”_

_“It was a gift”_

_“From Garrett?”_

_His silence is answer enough._

* * *

 

_Caring for John Garrett wasn’t a weakness, but that was how they saw it. None of them had ever been desperate enough to have to take such desperate measures._

* * *

 

_The all tensed as they entered a large commons area to see Agent Collins enter from the other side, he seemed relieved to see them, until the red arrow pierced him from behind, and he fell lifelessly to the floor._

_Several of them swallowed as, bow first, Arsenal came into view._

 

* * *

 

_Without hesitation, he flung the shield towards his new opponent, only for it to be caught by a silver hand. He felt his knees weaken slightly._

 

They captured him again.

 

_Bucky?”_

* * *

 

Stunned by the reappearance of his _still_ not dead best friend, he forgot to move as his own shield was thrown back towards him, slamming into his chest and sending him crashing to the floor.

The Winter Soldier’s silver arm reached up to remove his half mask, dropping it at his feet, revealing his full face, before catching the returning shield. The mask made a resounding ‘CLUNK’ in the empty room. Bucky kicked the dead agent’s corpse to the side, before throwing the shield back at the Captain for the second time as he moved to sit up. He rolled to the side as the shield impaled itself in the floor.

Standing, he grabbed the shield, placing it onto his left arm, before pulling off his own mask, and staring his oldest friend down. His brown eyes looking clouded compared to the usual brightness they once had.

 

_The lights are on but nobody’s home._

 

Sliding one leg back into a defensive stance, he brought the shield to his side, before moving off, headed for his opponent.

His legs racing, looking to meet his opponent in the middle, he brought up his shield for a deflection, as Bucky raised his metal arm, and swung with all that he had. The noise of metal on metal permeated the air.

The fight was on.

 

* * *

 

They immediately fanned out, hoping to swarm him before he decided to pull of an attack, but they were too slow.

Two quick shots struck FitzSimmons on their foreheads, dropping them both instantly, and everyone else surged forwards, but Hawkeye and Mack hung back, both of them noting the blunt arrows that were used against the scientists - they were unconscious, but alive.

 

_HYDRA wants prisoners … not a body count._

 

Hawkeye turned to tell Mack to remove FitzSimmons from the area when another blunt arrow struck Mack, dropping the large mechanic.

It was now ten on one.

Nocking a blunt arrow of his own, he let loose, only to see Arsenal snatch the arrow mid-flight, before spinning, and using the arrow’s momentum to nock it while he span, before firing it back at him.

 

 _Huh, the irony in that,_ was Hawkeye’s last thought before he hit the ground unconscious.

 

* * *

 

He couldn’t help the grunts that escaped his lips as he felt the blows rain down on his already bruised ribs. Their masks were both set off to the side, and his shield had been wrenched from his grasp several moments ago, nearly taking his shoulder with it.

With one last strike, The Winter Soldier - NOT Bucky - dropped him, before making to leave.

Coughing up drops of blood as he did so, he pushed himself to his knees, and attempted to stand. His efforts garnering The Winter Soldier’s attention, who regarded him with a look akin to pity.

“Why do you persist? Compliance would be easier”

Straightening up, he spat out the blood from the corner of his mouth, “Easier? Yes, but it wouldn’t be right, and I’m gonna make you see that”

Launching himself forwards with a right hook, he was sidestepped, and The Winter Soldier sent him crashing back to the floor, by driving his elbow into the side of his ribs. He hit the floor, rolling onto his back and staring his oldest friend in his eyes.

“Why do you continue to fight? _Why_ do you fight?”

He coughed lightly, pulling himself up into a sitting position, “For you Bucky. I’ll always try to help you, I’ll follow you to the end of the line”

For the first time in a long time, the clouds in his eyes began to recede.

 

* * *

 

They had him encircled now, which meant that they could cover him from all angles, but also prevented them from using their ICERs on him, lest they catch each other in the crossfire.

Using his bow like a staff, he swung it, using it to strike. His initial attack was aimed at Widow, having identified her as the biggest threat, it had only then taken seconds for May to jump into the fray.

They watched as he danced around ‘The Cavalry’, using her body to stop Black Widow from reaching him, using his opponent as a moving human shield. The rest watched, transfixed, as Arsenal weaved his way in between two of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s greatest ever combatants, dealing and taking damage, but with no apparent signs of fatigue or pain.

His first mistake came when he moved, with his back to Bobbi, and she used her batons to strike him from behind.

His head reeled from the blow, and he dropped his bow in surprise and Widow wasted no time as she kicked it off to the side, as May moved to stand next to her.

Smirking, he drew his own batons from their pouch on his left leg, but not before he threw a flechette at May, she side stepped in an attempt to dodge, but Arsenal had anticipated the move, and she had stepped into its path.

The miniature arrow impaled itself through her thigh, and she collapsed onto her knees, unable to stand on just her left leg.

“MEL!”

Coulson’s cry of concern jarred the rest into action. Hunter, Triplett and Skye moved in, with the two male specialists seizing him from behind, while Fury took aim with his ICER.

A single shot rang out.

 

* * *

 

_“The end of the line Bucky. The. End. Of. The. Line”_

Captain America watched on, as his friend’s famous words were traced onto his lips, the HYDRA weapon seemingly stopping in his path of destruction, before mouthing the words himself, a small sliver of remembrance reaching his face.

“You remember don’t you? Bucky?”

The Winter Soldier was stood still, transfixed, but he knew his friend, he could see the thoughts racing through his, at a mile a minute, connecting the dots, putting the pieces together.

“You remember me don’t you? What about Peggy? Or Dum Dum? We were a team! HYDRA took you away from us!” He was screaming now, he could hear the desperation in his own voice, before he collapsed to his knees, his chest heaving in dry sobs, “you have to remember, please Bucky”

The deafening silence is only broken by the Captain pleading, watching as the soldier straightens up, a startling clarity on his face, nodding his head to reassure himself.

“Get up Captain. We have a mission to finish and people to save”

 

* * *

 

Fury fired.

On instinct, Arsenal threw his shoulder in front of his vital organs, which also managed to pull Hunter straight into the line of fire, and he dropped to the floor, incapacitated as the blue ICER vein appeared on his back.

Swinging over in the other direction, Tripp was sent over his shoulder, before he dropped his knee directly across the darker man’s jaw, knocking him out instantly.

The fight had now gone from a thirteen on one situation, to a six on one beat down, and it was the six getting beaten down.

The last flechette was thrown into Fury’s ribs, blood spurred out, and like May, he dropped to the floor, unable to stand under the pain.

It was now five on one.

Coulson left May’s side to join the others, he shed his suit jacket and rolled his sleeves up, preparing to fight.

Romanoff placed herself between Arsenal and his recurve bow. There had been no fatalities so far, but she didn’t want to take any chances.

Hill, Skye and Bobbi finished boxing him in.

Neither side made a move, uncompromising in its goal to defeat the other, like a human chess game, Whitehall had sent his best piece, hoping to wipe all others from the board, while keeping one of their best pieces – the one that could’ve tipped the balance easily, occupied by an old friend of his.

So Arsenal made his move.

He struck overhead at Bobbi with his left, and her arms moved up to intercept the blow. Dropping the baton in his left hand, he grabbed her arms and threw her straight into a surprised Hill, causing them to stumble over towards where Triplett was attempting to regain some semblance of consciousness.

Without waiting, Skye lunged for the fallen baton, but it was too late.

As Morse and Hill fell, he had used his right hand to throw his second baton straight at Romanoff’s nose, and she had ducked to avoid it.

Arsenal had dived over her crouched form, rolling as he landed, and straightened up with his bow in hand, the other drawing an arrow.

A very pointy, non-blunt arrow.

He let the arrow loose, as Skye threw his baton, and it collided with the side of his face, causing him to recoil and the arrow - aimed at Hill’s abdomen – to veer off course.

It passed her by and headed towards where Bobbi was helping Tripp get to his feet.

 

* * *

 

“Come on, I know how to help him”

Captain America and The Winter Soldier ran through the base, looking like the strongest and strangest partners ever seen.

Steve couldn’t help the urge to grin. _He had his best friend back._

“How?”

While running, Bucky managed to roll his eyes, “I’ve been with HYDRA for decades. Every agent that’s been brainwashed has a specific memory, one of their better ones, it works as a reset. If we can get Arsenal to remember his, then you get Grant Ward back! Mine was the ‘end of the line’, when I was with you!”

“So what’s his memory?”

“I dunno”

“That does not fill me with confidence Bucky!”

 

* * *

 

The arrow pierced Tripp’s knee, completely shattering the kneecap and causing the specialist to scream in agony, letting out a howl like a wounded animal.

Bobbi tried to place him on the ground, before attempting to re-join the fight. The sooner it was over, the sooner they got medical attention.

She never managed, as a blunt arrow struck her temple before she’d even finished putting him down.

That left it at four to one. HYDRA’s victory seeming all the more assured as Arsenal circled his four prey, before pausing and deftly lashing out at Coulson, his elbow colliding with the man’s temple with a sickening ‘CRACK’.

Three to one.

Leaping over Skye and Hill’s joint attack, another two arrows were let loose, aimed straight at Skye’s chest, and just like the shot from the video, she thought she was going to die.

Until a shield collided with the arrow in mid-air, snapping them cleanly in half, before it bounced off the wall and returned to its sender.

Captain America and The Winter Soldier had entered the fray.

Skye’s breath rushed out from her as she let out the breath she’d been holding at Ward’s attempted murder of her, nearly everyone’s face went into relief mode as TWO super soldiers entered the room side by side.

Romanoff, Hill and Coulson backed off, with Romanoff moving to check on Barton, while the other two headed for Fury and May, while Skye tried to move the others from the floor, letting the three of them have the area.

It was doubly important as some of them were starting to stir.

The greatest soldier the world had ever known, the HYDRA traitor, who was quite possibly one of the greatest specialists S.H.I.E.L.D. had ever known, and HYDRA’s ageless assassin came to a Mexican-style stand-off.

 

_But who’s going to blink first?_

 

It was like the beginning of a bad joke, except none of it was funny.

And _all_ of it was deadly.

The two super soldiers separated, leaving a gap, big enough to dodge into, without compromising the other’s movement capabilities.

Bucky flexed his arm. Captain America hefted his shield. And Arsenal drew back his bow, one sharp and deadly arrow at the ready.

The Captain turned to have a quick chat with Romanoff, before turning around as Arsenal fired, using the lapse in judgement to strike first.

The arrow flew towards The Captain, who brought his shield up to block it, and while he was temporarily blinds, Arsenal moved in towards Bucky.

While the two men out of time had enhanced speed, strength and reflexes, neither of them had anywhere near the level of skill that Arsenal had. He had all of Ward’s skills, which were a lot to begin with, and then he also had whatever HYDRA had added on top of that.

Grant Ward would’ve been taken down by May, Romanoff and Morse in minutes without them breaking a sweat.

Arsenal had outmanoeuvred them, and then some. He even took out Hawkeye with his _own arrow_!

There really was no way to tell who was going to walk away from this.

Ducking under Bucky’s fist, he sent a jab into the side of his ribs, cutting off his breath, before swinging around to his back, and sending his elbow into Bucky’s kidneys, the bigger man dropping to a knee.

Arsenal reached behind him for another arrow when the shield smashed into his elbow.

The Captain, seeing Arsenal reach for another weapon hadn’t hesitated in disabling him. He’d thrown his shield, and then watched as it connected with his arm, before the arm below his elbow went completely slack.

The short distance meant the force was slightly stronger than usual, and the clear snap could be heard throughout the room.

He’d broken Arsenal’s elbow.

The bow and arrow clattered to the floor as Arsenal cradled his broken right arm with his left, before, visibly gritting his teeth, he stuffed the arm into his harness and reached up for another arrow, after tightening his harness, immobilising his arm.

He never had the chance to reach it as Bucky’s arms wrapped around him, locking him in around his neck, as his legs wrapped around his abdomen, tightening the hold and immobilizing the man completely.

“STEVE NOW!”

Coulson, Skye, Bobbi and Romanoff ran over to them as Arsenal attempted to thrash about in his captivity, but the broken arm restricted him and allowed the much stronger Bucky to hold him.

They took one look at the struggle before they all began sprouting off ideas for Ward’s memory.

“Shooting-“

“Battleship-“

“Shooting-“

“Training-“

“-music-“

“-Buddy-“

“-err board games-“

They looked on in horror as Arsenal continued to thrash against his captor, his head managing to break Becky’s nose, they were out of ideas until Tripp’s voice rang out, with pain lacing his tone.

“My Graduation Day Ward. You, me and John. The first day we were all together. A family”

Like a light switch had been flipped, he stopped thrashing and relaxed, his eyes becoming clearer, and his body becoming almost _limp_. With a look towards The Captain, who nodded, Bucky released him. He sat up, still with a dazed look in his eyes.

“John…”

His voice made Skye visibly flinch, he sounded so hurt, so … _heartbroken_. She wasn’t sure he could sound that way.

“Grant”

His head snapped up to meet her gaze, he frowned, before blinking several times, clearing the cobwebs from his head.

“Skye? What? Where?”

He stopped, his eyes screwed up in concentration, before he growled out, “Whitehall”

“He’s gone. We’ve got agents confirming they saw him escape with Bakshi”

Fury’s voice was clear, cutting straight through his current and varied murderous thoughts towards the HYDRA head, and bringing him back once again.

The Director ran a hand through his non-existent hair, exhaling as he did so.

“Come on Agent Ward. Let’s get us all some medical attention. Justice can wait once, just this time”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, how do we feel about that?  
> This'll probably wrap up soon, and I hope you all join me for the sequel.
> 
> A question - is there anything that you think we should see during Ward's training years - there will be flashbacks.
> 
> -MarvelMatt


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A choice is made.

**Chapter 10**

 

* * *

 

**Three days later**

 

It hadn’t even been a week since HYDRA’s surprise invasion of The Hub 2.0, and it had been two days since Simmons had cleared Ward to resume light duties - duties which had been severely restricted because of his broken arm, which was locked in place by a sling and a hard cast – and they were the worst two days he had had since re-joining the team.

He and James Buchanan ‘Bucky’ Barnes had returned to S.H.I.E.L.D. after being tortured and brainwashed by HYDRA to contrasting receptions.

Bucky was Captain America’s best friend, and so, was therefore immediately welcomed back with smiles on everyone’s faces and hugs.

Grant Ward was a known HYDRA traitor, and so, was immediately accused of still being a double agent, as well as a mass murderer.

He couldn’t bring himself to disagree, he had killed at least thirteen known S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents, not to mention whoever HYDRA had sent him after – he hadn’t gathered the courage to look them up yet. He was met with stares of pure hatred from nearly every agent on the base, some of them had even taken to threatening him and shoving him against the walls as he passed them.

None of that was important though, because right now, Fitz had asked to see him in his lab.

Since his full mental faculties had been returned to him, courtesy of HYDRA’s R&D Department, his relationship with Simmons had returned to being much closer to what it was before HYDRA, but it was still obviously strained, neither willing to admit to the other that they remembered his underwater confession.

Simmons’ obvious displeasure towards Ward, in opposition to Fitz’s obvious sympathy for him was another constraint, so when Ward entered the lab, he was unsure of what he would find.

Crossing the door, he waited as Fitz looked up and Simmons left out the other side, Tripp rolling behind her.

He was young, healthy and strong. There was a good chance he would be able to walk again.

A good chance, but not guaranteed.

Antoine Triplett may never walk again.

Because of him.

“You wanted to see me?”

Looking up from whatever gadget or gizmo he was working on, Fitz waved him in, before packing away his tools.

“Yeah, I’ve got you a welcome back present”

He finished his packing, before heading out the same door as Simmons did, with Ward following dutifully behind.

The door lead to a blank common room that the senior agents had claimed for themselves, and Fitz had spent the last week designing it to accommodate them all.

The SHIELD Blue carpet was a nice touch, as were the couches, the TV, the Xbox and the dining table, but what stood out was the far wall.

Starting on the left and spreading across the entire wall were glass cases, each one housing a mannequin containing each person’s recognizable field gear.

Fury’s trench coat and pistol were housed in the first one. Followed by Hill’s standard issue jumpsuit and her pistol. Coulson’s suit and vest, alongside his ICER were next. May, Skye and Bobbi all had their jumpsuits, May and Skye had ICERs, whereas Bobbi had her batons. Tripp and Hunter had their tactical survival suits and rifles. Then there was Captain America’s two outfits (traditional and stealth), with his shield in the middle of the two, followed by Romanoff’s jumpsuit and her spider-bites. Hawkeye’s new dark purple and blue hinted attire followed, with his bow and quiver stored alongside it.

That left the two covered up cases next to them, but he had burnt his ‘Arsenal’ the night after the invasion, and then snapped the bow in half.

They made pretty flames.

The other senior members began to pile in as Simmons and Triplett joined them, until Rogers lead Bucky in and they all assembled around the two remaining cases.

Rogers removed the cloth from the first one, to see The Winter Soldier, but instead of black and red with HYDRA logos, it was now dark blue and white, with stars on the shoulders. The sight of Captain America hugging HYDRA’s best, and longest serving assassin was a weird one, but he had seen weirder.

Finally Fitz whispered, “I designed both of them. Yours was done months ago. Supposed to be a welcome back from Europe gift”, before Coulson stepped up and uncovered the last one.

On the last mannequin was a hood and Kevlar bi-weave suit, with a large ring – about the size of his fist alongside it. Many of the agents present nodded appreciatively at the design –plain, but striking.

There were gauntlet, which were ridged, and if he had to guess, he’d say they were made with Titanium. They stopped mid forearm, with some extra protection at the elbows. His shoulders would then be protected, leading to the main body of the suit, where the dark emerald melded with the black. The quiver and trousers were the same colour, which was finished by black boots. There was an eyemask in the same shade of green, as was he hood. Big enough to cover his forehead, and cast his face in shadow, with small pieces of mesh at the rear, to vent some excess heat when he was fighting.

It looked pretty well … pretty _badass._ He did have _one_ question though.

He turned his inquisitive gaze towards the engineer, “Green?”

He looked a bit flustered, “Yes, err … well it’s the opposite of red, which is HYDRA, and so I thought …”

He chuckled humourlessly at the engineer’s stammering, “You thought right”

The Scotsman let out a relieved smile, much to the pleasure of the group.

Ward stepped forward, and picked up the ring, before instinctually squeezing the metal in his fingers, causing it to expand into a compound bow.

A perfectly balanced compound bow.

“How is it? Hawkeye, I mean Agent Barton, told me that it would be difficult to get the draw strength right without you, but I tried to copy the old one as near as I could…”

He didn’t hear the rest of his panicked rambling, he was too busy checking the weight and feel of his new toy. His old bow, the one Hawkeye had given him, had always felt wrong, but he could never figure out why, but this one felt right, like his old recurve one he’d learnt on, but it needed testing first.

Spotting Hunter, who was raising a travel mug, probably of tea, to his lips to take a sip, he span around, grabbing an arrow from the quiver stored next to the suit, and drawing it, before letting it loose, and watching it take the travel mug by the handle and impaling into the wall.

The bow was great.

The look of sheer panic on Hunter’s face was greater.

The outright look of speechlessness on everyone’s face except for May and Romanoff was priceless.

He nodded his appreciation, “The bow’s perfect Fitz”, and the engineer’s smile stretched from ear to ear.

Laughter emanated from Barton, before it spread to Bobbi and before long everyone was laughing – or at least smiling. Barton’s arm slipped around Romanoff’s shoulders, and Coulson did the same with May’s waist and before long, the small meeting had turned into a very small party. Fury and Hill cooked while everyone else listened to music, drank the vodka Natasha had whipped out of nowhere and danced before dinner.

Only one thought stayed on Grant Ward’s mind.

 

* * *

 

He slung the spare clothes he had into his gym bag, before slipping on the watch Fitz had given him all those months ago – HYDRA had removed his old one when he was captured. Zipping up the bag, he flicked on the TV to the news, where he saw his brother’s face smiling at the screen. The headline across the bottom made his blood boil.

‘FORMER SENATOR CHRISTIAN WARD ACQUITTED’

He’d pled out that he’d been threatened, and so had his family, which had coerced him to work for HYDRA.

At least his own name had been ‘cleared’, after Fury had ‘leaked’ a story that Grant had been S.H.I.E.L.D. all along and that he was never HYDRA.

Grant was free to live a lie and Christian’s popularity had risen.

He was now aiming for congress before he took the plunge for presidency.

That thought made him shiver.

HYDRA in the White House.

“Leaving so soon?”

He was knocked out of his reverie and span to find Bobbi leaning against his doorway, looking as good as he remembered, wearing a pair of shorts and a t-shirt that was several sizes too big.

The t-shirt was his.

 

_Damn that’s sexy as hell!_

 

“I have to-”

“I know”, she smiled sadly at him, crossing the room and wrapping her arms around her chest. He responded in turn, glad she wasn’t wearing heels, as he tucked her head under his chin, sighing in contentment.

He’d miss this.

He’d miss _her_.

“I’ll miss you, y’know that, right?”

 

_God, I sound pathetic_

 

She doesn’t answer at first, she just brushes her lips across his. It’s sweet and innocent, and entirely unlike the two of them that they both smile. The stretch of the grin is actually strange on his face, and it must show because Bobbi starts laughing at him.

She sobers up a minute later, “I’ll miss you too, so you better come back”

He chuckles, before reaching into his bag, “Here”, and wrapping his leather jacket around her. Her eyes widen, and he knows that she understands exactly what it means to him, “keep hold of it, and maybe I’ll come back and get it”

“Careful now, ‘cos’ that sounds dangerously like a promise Mr Ward”

He chuckled in response, pressing another kiss to her temple, “It just might be Ms Morse”

 

* * *

 

“You were just gonna leave, just like that?”

He fought the urge to groan. Of all the people he had to run into, it had to be him.

“Yeah … I was. Got a problem with that?”

He looked up to see the man leaning against a motorcycle, which was parked alongside several of the SUVs. It wasn’t his, Hunter didn’t own a bike.

“I respect you y’know?”

 

_Where the HELL did that come from?_

 

“I know you don’t like me, and really I get it now … I’m sorry I didn’t before, but I let the others’ blind me, I mean”, he let out a breathy chuckle, “I was a merc for years, I killed dozens of people for money. I never gave a damn about anyone ‘cept for me, but you did. You gave your life to that man. To that psycop-”

“DON’T!”

His anger bleeds through his voice, it might be irrational to some, but not to him, “Don’t ever …”, he takes a few breaths to centre himself, “I don’t care what he did, or why he did it, he might’ve only trained me to help himself, but he saved me and … and that’s all that matters to me”

“The other’s won’t understand”, it’s a statement, even if Hunter makes it sound like a question.

“No. They won’t, and they won’t understand why I’m leaving, but I _have_ to”

“Okay. Here”, he caught the set of keys that came his way, as the Brit strode towards him, “she’s a Ducatti, an old one at that, ‘bin nicely upgraded by Fitz and Mack for field use. I snagged the keys earlier. I knew you’d run, thought you could use them more than we could”

“Thank you”

They clasped hands briefly, an understanding passing between them, before letting go. Ward moving to straddle the bike, as Hunter lowered the gates. With an exaggerated kick, the engine roared the life.

Pausing to tighten his bags on the back, he turned back to ex-merc, and called out, “Hunter! Take care of Rosa for me!”

Not waiting for a response, he revved the engine, and pulled out of the hangar, leaving a very confused Hunter in his wake.

 

_Who the in the Hell was Rosa?_

 

* * *

 

The senior S.H.I.E.L.D. agents meet up for breakfast, as they do every day, the following morning, but they all stop to wait in FitzSimmons’ lab at Hunter’s request before entering the common area together.

The only completely unsurprised one in the room is Hunter.

Ward’s green hood and suit are missing, along with his quiver and collapsible bow.

They’re not missing, it just takes them all a minute to notice it. They’re folded up neatly, placed in a storage box at the foot of his mannequin.

In their place alongside everyone else’s uniforms lies a single envelope, with _The New Team_ in the centre, written in Ward’s perfectly neat handwriting. Being the only one capable of coherent thought it seems, Hunter retrieves the letter and takes his usual seat on the dining table, waiting for the others to join him.

They do so in one mass movement, so he opens the envelope and begins to read aloud to them. By the time he’s finished there are some tears, but mostly resignation, they knew he wouldn’t stay, but they had hoped for so long that he would.

One day they would meet the real Grant Ward, and based on what they’d already seen, he would be a force to be reckoned with, and one hell of a man.

 

 

_~~Dear Skye, Coulson, May, Fitz, Simmons, Triplett, Bobbi, Hunter, Fury, Barton and Romanoff~~_

_Dear the team,_

 

_I know there are probably others there, but they aren’t relevant to this at the present time._

_I owe you all an explanation, and to be honest, there are some parts I don’t understand myself yet, but I’m trying to._

_By the time you read this, I will have left and been gone several hours._

_PLEASE don’t try to find me._

_I don’t want to be found, at least, not yet. One day, we’ll cross paths again, it’ll probably be sooner rather than later knowing our luck._

_There’s a Sat-Phone in the envelope linked up to the one I have, just in case, but I won’t be expecting to use it to call you, but if I’m needed, just give me a call._

_Try not to though._

_When John found me, I was alone in the world. I was scared of everything, and I was weak._

_It’s thanks to him that I’m alive. He trained me, saved me, beat the weakness out of me, and yes, it was painful and often physically and emotionally demanding, but in the end, I exited my personal crucible the stronger for it, and I will always be thankful for that._

_I don’t expect you to understand that._

_I’ve made so many mistakes that I don’t know any more. I want to help people, but I can’t stay with S.H.I.E.L.D. I once said that they were the same as HYDRA, and I’ve never seen evidence to prove me wrong – the only slight difference is that HYDRA was honest about their methods._

_Both develop weapons. Both condone torture and killing – you call it interrogation. Both don’t worry too much about civilians – you call it collateral damage, they call it acceptable losses. Both believe they know what’s best for their operatives, though you’re both equally ignorant._

_You want to stop losing men from defection, then stop lying to them._

_John Garrett only turned because S.H.I.E.L.D. wouldn’t med-evac him, after telling him they had his back. Sitwell tuned because his nephew was refused an exfil during a high-risk op. His nephew died from injuries sustained during his escape._

_I joined because John Garrett saved me from a lifetime of hell._

_Sometimes I wish S.H.I.E.L.D. had found me first, but they did. Garrett was still S.H.I.E.L.D. when he found me. He was HYDRA when I joined The Academy. If I wanted to really break it down, I could blame you, for me being HYDRA._

_I won’t._

_I not that stupid, or that naïve._

_I tried to do the right thing at first. To injure my opponents instead of making widows and orphans, to sneak in and sneak out instead of blowing up the front door and taking out everyone in between my goal._

_To drop a medical pod instead of putting a bullet between their eyes._

_Killing’s easy. They never tell you that. They never teach you that. It’s just as simple as flicking a switch, and then … nothing. There’s no pull in your chest, no feeling of pain, there’s just nothing. And from then on, it gets easier, until it’s like making a sandwich – move some stuff about, quick press of a knife, and then you’re done._

_That’s who I am right now._

_There has been so much lying and hiding in my life, that I no longer know if I’m doing what I want, or what I think I want, or what I think you want._

_I want my own life._

_I think it’s time I answered your question Agent Coulson, so this is me, finding out who I am, what I want to do, and what I feel towards everyone, without John Garrett._

_I want to be able to just fall in love, and know that that’s what’s happening. Or see a person, and think of hem as a friend, not a target or a potential hostile._

_So, signing off,_

_Grant Douglas Ward **FORMER** Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D._

 

 

“So … what’d we do?”

Fitz asks the question, and Fury gives him the answer, with all eyes on him, he hides his sad smile.

“We let him go”

 

* * *

 

Pulling over to read the signs, he smiled to himself. If he wanted to start somewhere new, he needed a city. One that he could learn the truth about HYDRA and S.H.I.E.L.D. in, but it had to be one he’d been to before, even if it was just to set up a temporary safe house with John. He’d still mapped out the city in his head.

Besides, if nothing else, this one had all of his own training gear stored away, under that abandoned steel factory. John had named the place The Foundry. For him, it was about to become HQ.

Re-adjusting his sunglasses, Grant Ward revved the engine, before kicking off, passing the highway welcoming sign that would lead to his future.

 

‘ _WELCOME TO STARLING CITY’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, we're finally at the end.
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed reading this as much as I have enjoyed writing it, and I hope you'll stay with me for the sequel - Shadows of Starling.
> 
> If there's anything you think would make a great addition to the story, by all means, let me know.
> 
> -MarvelMatt


End file.
